Wings Of A Wizard
by Wings Of Sanguine
Summary: The wizarding world has been invaded by the King Of Hell, and he's bent on taking over Hogwarts, possibly the entire wizarding .. (DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT ON SUPERNATURAL HARRY POTTER OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS)
1. Chapter 1

"Round and round the mulberry bush…. the clouds are made of ashes….. down goes the brave man's soul….his skin split through with gashes…" he sang, his voice sugary and sweet. His fingers rubbed the handle of the knife as if it were his pet, a loving child. The blade- silver metal, at least a foot long- was rusty, crimson dripping from its edge. The words he sang went along with the tune to "Here We Go Round The Mulberry Bush"- _a children's song_, Dean realized. He had remembered hearing it when he and Sam were kids. And now Sam was singing it, his face contorted with fury. Blood stained his blue plaid shirt, his cheeks.

"Sam…." Dean warned, holding a hand out in defense. With the other, he pushed Castiel behind him, shielding the angel from his brother. The Impala was parked back in the lot of the motel. Blood splattered on the puke-green motel carpet.

"What's happening?" Castiel asked, tugging at the collar of his brown trench coat. Sweat beaded the angel's skin as Dean and him backed away, hitting the end of the bed. The sheets were stained with unidentifiable brown spots and streaks.

"I….I think it's getting to him," Dean answered, sitting on the end of the mattress, never taking his eyes off his brother. Castiel shuffled to the side, standing against the wall, watching Sam's every move. The demon's brown eyes were filled with malice as he gritted his teeth and let out a roar of frustration, pulling his arm back, then letting the knife fly at his brother. Dean ducked as the blade sailed through the air, landing with a thunk in the wood of the headboard. Red splotched the white pillows as it dripped from the metal.

"Shit, that was close!" Dean shouted, pointing a finger at Sam, "you could have killed me if that hit me!" He jumped off the bed as Sam shrugged. His eyes were cold and empty. Castiel gulped.

"Wasn't that the point?" Sam asked blankly. Dean peered out the window, saying, "Are you stupid?"

"No. Are you?" Sam countered, his fingers twitching slightly. Dean shivered slightly at the gaze from Sam- full of bloodlust- _or lust in general_, he thought. He had seen the way Sam looked at Cas, after all.

"Sam, this is not time for games," Dean muttered, "we need to get moving. I'll get the car started, you guys get your stuff together okay?" grabbing his coat off the back of the chair, he slipped it on and grabbed the door, slamming it behind him as he left. He could feel Sam's gaze bore into his back, even with the wood barrier. Briskly he walked down the hall until he reach the elevator, and he punched the button on the wall. There was a ding, and the elevator doors opened, revealing the small empty compartment._ Good,_ Dean thought, _I really need to be alone right now._

Castiel was back- and at the worst time possible. Sam was crazed by demon blood, and Castiel was not there to help him for at least a year. _And now I just left him in the motel room with my crazed demonic brother_, he thought. He watched the lights of the numbers indicate which floor the elevator was on, wiping a tear that he found sliding down his cheek.

"Damn it, Cas…..Sam….." he muttered with heartache. He hated seeing his brother like that, careless and bitchy. And Cas…he couldn't even go there. There were too many things about Cas, he couldn't pinpoint just one. The elevator dinged again, the doors sliding open.

"Could never get the hang of these useless Muggle inventions," a redheaded man said over his shoulder to someone as he came in the elevator, carrying a large suitcase with him. A stout woman followed him in, holding the hand of a teenage girl, who looked annoyed by the fact that her mother held her hand in public. Following them were a set of twins, wide grins on their faces as the waved around sticks, chanting nonsense to each other and laughing. After them were three other kids- a redhead boy with a rat on his shoulder, a girl with messy brown hair, and a boy with messy black hair and round glasses. Dean watched them curiously as they piled into the elevator, making him push himself into the corner to accommodate everyone.

"Well, ask Harry about it later!" the woman said to him- _probably his wife_, Dean thought, surveying the crowd of orangey-haired people- _a family? And two friends? _Dean thought as the red head girl tore her hand away, saying "Mummy! It's embarrassing to hold your hand!"

"Now Ginny-" the woman started to say but turned her attention to the twins- "Fred! George! No spell-casting in the… Harry dear, how do you say it?" The black haired boy whispered in her ear and she continued saying, "right- no spell-casting in the elevator!" Dean's eyes widened.

"Spell-casting…?" he asked himself, looking at the group curiously. The husband nodded his head, turning around (he was closest to Dean) saying, "Yes, spell-casting-whoa!" He cried out once he noticed Dean. He was at least a foot taller then the man. He looked Dean up and down as if he were a model in a magazine, asking, "Molly- look it this one! Almost as tall as Hagrid!" The woman- Molly, Dean now knew- pushed her way to the back of the elevator, then squeaked with surprise, "Most definitely!" Then, taking Dean's hand, she shook it saying, "Molly Weasly, dear. This is my husband Arthur- then we have Fred, George, Ginny, Ron, and their friends Hermione and Harry." She pointed to each one as she said their name. Dean knew his face was slightly red- from crying a little- so it was embarrassing to have strangers see him like that. Hermione- that was her name, wasn't it?- had her face buried in a large book while the Harry kid took off his glasses and cleaned them on his shirt.

"D-Dean," Dean answered.

"What was that dear?" Molly Weasly asked, "my hearing isn't what it used to be, you know." _No, I wouldn't know, because I don't know you,_ Dean thought as he answered, "Dean. Dean Winchester."

"Any family, Dean?" the woman asked, a bright smile on her round face. Dean ran a hand through his hair. The three kids- Ron, Harry and Hermione- were now looking at him with interest, the big book still open in the girl's hands. She shut it, a cloud of dust floating in the air. Ron and Harry coughed, telling her "to not read in such a tight space, okay?" Arthur nudged Molly, saying, "Now dear, don't bombard the poor man, we just met him!" There was a sudden flash in his eye, and he leaned down, whispering, "Do you think he knows?" Dean raised an eyebrow as Molly said, "Probably, I mean, he knows spell-casting, after all." _Could they possibly be hunters….?_ Dean thought, then shook his head.

"No…." he mumbled to himself, chuckling.

"No what?" the twins said simultaneously, popping up from behind him. Dean jumped, screaming with fright as Mrs. Weasly pointed a scolding finger at them, "Boys! What did I say about Apparating!" The two boys rolled their eyes, mischievous smiles on their faces.

"Sorry, Mum," they answered as the elevator dinged, the doors opening. Arthur and molly pushed everyone out of the elevator and into the hallway, saying, "Everyone have their keys?"

"We need to be at the station by three in the afternoon! Remember that!" Mrs. Weasly told everyone as she ushered them off, reaching into her pocket for the key, squinting at it.

"I need to get new glasses," she told Dean as she too dyer husband to follow the kids.

"Room fourteen," Dean read the number out loud for her, then said idly to himself "Oh, that's right next to my room. I'll have to tell Sam to keep the door unlocked for me if Cas decides to just disappear again…" Realizing what he just said, his face fell. He broke into run suddenly, leaving Molly Weasly in the hall with her kids and husband as he ran past them.


	2. Chapter 2

Molly sighed as she joined her husband in their room. Ron, Harry and Hermione were in the attached room with the others- they were all going to share because it costed to much to get separate rooms.

"What's wrong, Molly dearest?" Arthur asked his wife, clicking through the channels on the television, Harry had explained to him earlier for the millionth time, "You know, Muggles sure watch interesting things."

"That boy, Arthur," Mrs. Weasly said, "there's something abut him- he seemed a bit different than a normal Muggle, don't you think?"

"What boy?" Arthur asked, then said with realization, "oh, Molly. He isn't a boy, he was a grown man. Dean, Winchester, was his name, right?" Arthur had a knack for remembering people's names, even if he only knew them for five minutes or five years. It didn't make difference to him.

"Yes, that Dean," Molly confirmed for him, "he seemed, a bit….upset, i guess, nervous, i don't know. And you know what he did?"

"No, I don't- what happened?" Arthur said, continuing to look at the television screen.

"He said his room was next to ours, and then he mentioned names, and ran off!" Molly exclaimed, thrown ghee hands in the air.

"What names?" Arthur asked, clicking the remote and turning off the television. He flinched as there was a loud pop from the other room and shouts of "Fred, George! That's not funny!" from Ron.

"Uh…." Molly paced as she tried to remember, "…..Sam, and a Cas, I believe." Arthur raised an eyebrow. Sam was a normal name, but Cas? What kind of name was that?

"Is Cas short for something, you think?" he asked his wife. Molly shrugged her shoulders saying, "I don't know. I guess we'll find out in the morning. I'll go get the kids ready for bed before they stuff themselves full of sweets." She gave Arthur a peck on the cheek and said, "Good night, dear." before going in the other room and getting them to bed. There were protests and yawns and threats of "If you don't listen to your mother I'll make you read the first chapter-" and "Alright, alright! Jeez!"

That morning, everyone rushed as they tried getting ready as so not to miss the train.

"Everyone, up! Come on!" Arthur yelled into the rooms as Molly packed the suitcases with the help of Hermione and Ginny. As usual, besides herself and Arthur they were the only two ready to go.

"What time is it?" Ron came in wearing striped pajamas, Scabbers the rat on his shoulder. He rubbed sleep out of his eyes as he walked almost zombie-like into the bathroom, followed by Harry, who was pulling a red t-shirt over his head.

"It's one in the afternoon!" Molly called to them, "I let you sleep late, come on! Get moving!" As soon as they were all ready- it took the twins the longest since they decided to try and blow off the toilet seat to show their friends they and been in a Muggle motel room- and finally pushed everyone out of the room.

"Fred, George!" Molly said, "If I find out you two blew up the toilet-" The twins laughed and gave each other a look, their eyes smiling.

"Blow up a toilet? Us?" George asked, nudging his brother. Molly jumped as she heard laughing, the creak of a door opening. Turning, she found herself face to face with a man. He looked to be about twenty-five, his skin slightly tanned- or paled, depending on how you looked at him- and shaggy brown hair. His eyes were brown, and he wore a red plaid shirt and jeans, boots on his feet. He crossed his arms, biting his lip to keep from laughing.

"Hey George," Fred elbowed his brother. The man leaned into the room, saying, "Hey, Dean, you're never gonna believe this!" Arthur cocked his head, giving his wife a look- hadn't she mentioned someone named Dean last night?

"What?" he asked, elbowing back.

"Looks kind of like a moose, doesn't he, mate?" At this, the man gave them an exasperated look.

"What?" he asked incredulously. The twins laughed as Molly pinched their cheeks, saying, "I'm so sorry, They can be a bit devilish." At the last word, she saw his shoulders tense a bit, then relax as he closed his eyes, saying, "No, it's okay. I get called that a lot." As if to prove his point, another man- Dean, she realized- came out to join him, saying in a deep gruff voice, "Okay, Moose. This better be goo-" he stopped when he saw the red head family and their two friends. The man looked at Dean, then at the group, then bad at Dean, asking, "Met each other, I presume?" Dean nodded, then put a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, anyway buddy," he said, "Next time you go all demon on me, and Cas, don't cover it up."

"But i didn't-" the man tried protesting. Den gave him a stern look, shutting him up.

"You did and you know it," Dean said, "and I know it's because you don't want to hurt me, but we're hunters- we're brothers for Chrissake! And as a brother, it's my job to make sure you're okay. so can it and do what i ask." The man's face was red with embarrassment as he eyed the group in front of them- did he really have to spout all that gushy stuff in front of strangers?

"Yeah, Dean," the man said, annoyed, "I get it."

"Good," Dean said, "because I sure as hell am not going to rescue you out of Hell again. It's too damn hot." The man rolled his eyes as Dean reached into his pocket, waving the keys to a car in the air, "I'll start the Impala! Get your shit together!" The man surveyed the group as Dean walked down the hall- did Dean know these people? From where? Molly could tell the man felt uncomfortable, so she said, "Well, good morning to you-" The twins suddenly burst into laughter.

"Hey, Moose!" George asked with giggles.

"What did the bloke mean, 'rescue you from Hell again'?" Fred finished for his brother. The man's face went red as he stared t his feet. Molly punched both their arms.

"Boys! Apologize!" she scolded, "you don't go around asking about people's personal business, whether they go to Hell or not!" Turning to the man, she said, "And you know Dean? I met him last night in the elevator. So sweet, he is." _So that's where he knew them from_, Sam thought, shaking the woman's hand, as she introduced everyone in the group. Ron, Harry and Hermione were giving him quizzical looks.

"Glad to make your acquaintance," he said, "Sam. Sam Winchester." _So this is Sam?_ Molly thought as he let his hand drop idly to his side, unsure of what to do now. Arthur looked at hum curiously, then commented, "How tall are you, Sam?"

"What?" Sam asked.

"Sorry, just curious, but how tall are you exactly?" Arthur asked.

"Um… six foot four?" Sam ended his sentence as if it was a question. Arthur's eyes widened with wonder.

"Bloody hell," he said, "you must be part giant, you're taller than Hagrid by a full two inches!"

"Wait- what?" Sam asked in astonishment, "who's Hagrid?"

"The Groundskeeper at Hogwarts," the twins answered simultaneously as they pushed past him, ushering the others to follow, "and speaking of Hogwarts. we're gonna be late for the train!" As the group rushed past Sam, Molly squeezed his arm gently, saying, "I'm sorry about them. Really-"

"No," Sam interrupted her, "it's okay, really. Boys will boys, you know?" He gave her a reassuring smile to let her know he was fine, "I need to go meet Dean. He'll probably be asking where I am." Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a cellphone and flipped it open, pressing buttons.

"Yeah, Dean," Sam said into the phone, "On my way. Sorry." He flipped it shut and shoved it back in his pocket, waving to Molly Weasly as he walked away from her.

In the parking lot, Sam walked briskly along the blacktop. He could see the rest of the group crowded around an old blue car. He noticed the three kids giving him weird stares. Brushing it off, he opened the door to the Impala and climbed in. The engine purred as soon as he slammed the door.

"Ready to go to Hogwarts, Sammy?" Dean asked, a mischievous smile on his face.

"Let's get this over with," Sam said, rolling his eyes. Dean started the engine, the tires of the Impala screeching on the blacktop as they pulled out of their spot and drove away.


	3. Chapter 3

Platform Nine and Three Quarters was bustling with people. There were witches and wizards of all ages, carrying books, wheeling suitcases. Multiple animals were causing numerous amounts of chaos- toads were hopping in and out of people's shoes while owls swooped over their heads. After getting everyone settled with their things, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were aboard the train, waving good-bye to the Weasly's as the train pulled out of the station. Ginny had set off to find the trolley-woman for a bag of Bertie Bott's every flavor beans, dumping her bag on the floor in the compartment. The twins had disappeared, concocting who knows what with their friends.

"You know, there's something funny about that man," Hermione said, flipping the pages of her book lazily.

"What man?" Ron asked, pulling Scabbers' tail.

"The one at the motel," Hermione answered.

"The one we met in the elevator?" Harry chimed in.

"No," Hermione said, "the other one. What was his name- Sam, I think?"

"Yeah, that was his name," Harry confirmed, trying his best to remember, "what about him?"

"Have a crush, Hermione?" Ron teased with a smile on his face. Hermione slammed her book shut, then barked, "I do not!" Her face was red with embarrassment. Ron laughed. He had thought Sam looked a lot like a moose- after all, his brother- _Dean, was it?_ Ron thought, looking out the foggy glass window- had called him "Moose" a few seconds after the twins had said it.

"Did he seem tense to you? Like he was extremely uncomfortable?" Harry asked.

"He was acting more like he was trying to hide something," Hermione said.

"Why do you to even care?" Ron asked as Ginny slid open the compartment door and slid in, plopping herself next to Hermione, asking, "Care about what?"

"Some guy," Ron answered her, reaching for one of the bags Ginny was holding.

"The one at the motel? Before we left?" she asked.

"Yeah," Ron said, ripping open the bag and digging for a handful.

"He was cute, I'll admit," Ginny said, then looked at Ron as he kept digging through the bag, "What are you looking for? Gold?" Harry's face went red as Ginny said that- _but you're my girlfriend_, he thought somewhat jealous of the older man they barely knew.

"No," Ron said, annoyed, "I just don't want to get a poop-flavored one again is all." Rain started to fall, splattering random patterns on the window.

Dean squinted as rain fell on the windshield of the Impala, obscuring his view of the road. Sam sighed, asking, "Why exactly do we have to be here?"

"In London?" Dean asked, "because we need to find the tablet. And Cas. I haven't seen him since we left the motel. What went on between you two anyway?" Sam's shoulders tensed, he cracked his knuckles.

"We were arguing about the tablet," Sam answered, turning his gaze to the dull road out the window. The sky was a gloomy gray, no clouds in sight, yet it was raining.

"Why?" Dean asked, turning the wheel, "I thought we agreed to let Cas bring it to Heaven." Sam shook his head as Dean pulled the car into a ditch suddenly, making sam bounce in the passenger seat.

"Dude!" Sam said, "The hell are you doing?" Dean unbuckled his seatbelt, then reached over and undid Sam's. Opening the door, he jumped out and snapped at Sam, explaining, "Port Key. Let's go."

"Port Key?" Sam asked, "What the hell is a Port Key?" Following Dean into the ditch, he and his brother bent over what looked like an old boot. Mud splattered the side and there were holes in the toe. The laces were frayed and flies were buzzing around it.

"This, dear brother," Dean said, placing his hand on it, "is a Port Key. Now grab hold of it."

"Where did you come up with these things?" Sam asked, "and that is absolutely disgusting, I am not touching it."

"To answer your first question, I heard about it from an ad in a magazine. And i don't care if you think it's gross, it's the only way to get there. Besides flushing yourself down the toilet of course," Dean shrugged as Sam hesitantly reach out and grabbed the boot. In a flash, he felt as if his body were being twisted, and squeezed. And in a flash, that sensation was gone, leaving a dizziness in his head. They landed with loud grunts in the grass- grass that was almost dead. Surrounding them were trees, their wood trunks blackened with age and weathering. The sky was blue-black, not a star nor cloud in sight. _Heck, at least it's not raining anymore_, Sam thought as he helped his brother up.

"We're definitely not in Kansas anymore," Dean commented as he looked around. Fog covered their feet and they jumped as they hear a howl from the distance.

"Where are we?" Sam asked. Dean shook his head, "I do not know, but I do know we should probably get out of here. Agreed?"

"Agreed, let's go!" Sam grabbed Dean's hand and ran in a random direction. He could feel the uneven earth beneath his feet as he ran. They squinted, trying to see past the mist until Dean stopped in his tracks, jerking Sam's arm.

"Dude! What the hell?" Sam asked. Dean held up a finger, motioning him to be quiet.

"I hear something," he said.

"Yeah, the howls of wolves, now let's go!" Sam explained, panting slightly. _We didn't even run that far and I'm already tired?_ Sam thought, _man, I am in terrible shape._

"No, not the wolves," Dean said, "it sounds more like…. hooves, or something."

"So a horse?"

"But I also hear people," Dean added.

"So, you hear centaurs or something?" Sam asked. Dean opened his mouth to answer, but instead of a sentence came a loud cry of pain. Dean sank to his knee, his eyes wide.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, catching his brother before he toppled over completely.

"Dean. Dean, what happened?" Sam asked frantically, looking around to see what it was that hurt his brother. Sam's shoulders suddenly tensed up. He could feel his blood coursing through his veins, hot and quick. The demon blood. It was getting to him.

"Shit!" he cried in frustration as he heard hooves, like Dean had said. Tears began to fall down his face, staining Dean's coat as they dripped off his chin.

"Who are you," stated a voice. Sam jumped, looking up. He found himself staring into a pair of dark brown eyes.

"What….?" Sam asked, more to himself than the person…._thing _that was standing over him. Obviously, as he had told Dean, it was a centaur, but Sam had never seen one up close before. Its skin was pale cream, it's hair a honey brown. The horse end of the body was also honey colored, shrouded in darkness as he clipped his hooves against the grass.

"Who are you," it asked again, its voice smooth and crisp. Sam looked at Dean, who stared at the centaur with shock, trying to get into a sitting position.

"The fuck are you is the real question, Rainbow Dash," Dean teased, reaching over his shoulder, taking hold of…an arrow. _There's an arrow in my back_, Dean thought, _well, shit_.

"Okay," Dean announced, "who the fuck put an arrow in my back?" He glanced from his brother to the centaur, then back to Sam and said, "It was you, wasn't it? You fucking dick." The centaur cocked its head, confused. Dean whipped his head in Sam's direction, giving him an accusing glare.

"What is a dick?" it asked as Sam raised his hands defensively saying, "Dean, I'm not the one holding a bow an arrow!"

"So you're gonna say it was the centaur?" Dean asked, pointing to it. Sam nodded, "Uh, yes. Because the centaur is holding a fucking bow and arrow!" Dean turned his head and looked at the centaur- sure enough, the centaur had a longbow in its hand, a quiver of arrows on his back.

"Oh, sorry Sammy," Dean apologized, then said to the centaur through gritted teeth, "You dick!"

"Again I ask you," the centaur said, "what is a dick?" Dean and Sam exchanged surprised looks. What was this thing talking about?!

"Uh…." Dean searched for the right words, "hmmm….. how do you explain something like that, Sam?" Sam's jaw dropped.

"There is no way i am explaining that!" Sam said. Dean punched his arm, laughing.

"Don't be such a virgin!" Dean teased, "just explain it to the guy, okay?"

"Why do i always have to do these things?" Sam muttered under his breath, then sighed.

"To answer you're first question, before you explain," the centaur said, "I am Firenze. And you?"

"I'm Sam Winchester, this is my brother Dean, whom you just shot in the back with an arrow," Sam introduced, then cleared his throat, "now can i please explain this to get it over with?" Firenze nodded.

"Okay, so being half man half horse, you probably don't have one," Sam began, tense and uncomfortable. He felt the demon blood in his body, boiling in his veins. He jerked his head suddenly, then whipped it back into place. The centaur looked at him curiously.

"Anyway," Sam continued, "a dick- or, rather, a penis, is what it's called- dick is the slang term- is a bodily extremity that helps one with excretion and urination."

"Nerd," Dean muttered, reaching behind him and gripping the arrow in his fist The wood scratched his skin as he tried pulling.

"Ow!" he shouted, "Sammy help me get it out!" Sam grabbed hold of the arrow and tried. It was stuck good- the point was so far in, he had a hard time getting his hand around what little shaft there was.

"It's deep Dean," Sam said, "I advise that you not struggle as to not penetrate a vital-" Dean gasped as he twisted when Sam pulled again. He felt the tip of the arrow slide between his ribs and there was a loud crack. Dean gasped with pain, sweat beading on his forehead.

"- Organ," Sam finished with shock. _Did I just kill my brother?!_ he thought, _and it's all this stupid centaur's fault! _Dean began to tremble, his skin turning pale. Reaching out, he took Sam's hand. It was clammy with sweat, and cold.

"Sammy-" Dean said in short breaths, "Sammy, I don't feel good…." Sweat beaded on dean's forehead. Sam wiped it away, murmuring, "It's gonna be okay, Dean, you'll be okay…." The centaur loomed over them, a confused expression on his face. Sam glared at Firenze. If he hadn't shot Dean, Dean wouldn't be dying right now.

"Firenze," he said through gritted teeth, "you need to do something. Get the arrow out. Now." Firenze blinked, stunned. He had never had a human speak so demandingly to him before- _unless you count Harry Potter,_ he thought, smiling to himself. Firenze was quite fond of Harry. Firenze bowed his head, his ears twitching.

"Alas, there is nothing i can do for your brother, Sam," he said, ashamed.

"There has to be! Anything!" Sam cried. He felt tears starting to form, his temples throbbing. Firenze's head suddenly snapped up, his brown eyes gazing into the distance.

"What?" Sam asked, "what is it?"

"Someone is coming!" Firenze whispered, alarmed. Kicking up clouds of dot, he turned on his hooves and galloped away, his figure obscured by the mist as he disappeared, leaving Sam and Dean alone. Dean's breath was shallow, and Sam could feel his warm blood drip over his fingers as he rubbed his brother's back. Sam looked around frantically, until he saw something in the mist- a figure! It was coming closer, swinging a small light back and forth.

"Help!" Sam shouted to the figure. It had a smaller figure with it- like a dog, some sort of animal. He shouted again.

"Help! MY brother-!" Sam couldn't keep from letting the tears flow. dean laughed, his face a mix of pain and humor.

"Sammy, you turd," dean laughed, "don't cry over me- what would Mom and Dad think, huh?" Sam looked back at the figure- it was closer now and much bigger, coming out of the mist. A man- well, not really a man, he was so tall- appeared in a raggedy brown cloak. He wore matching clothes and had a lantern in one hand, a pink umbrella in the other. At his side was a large bloodhound, sniffing the ground furiously.

"Is that a hellhound?" Sam asked cautiously. The stranger stopped short, glancing at the dog, then back at Sam.

"What in bloody hell is a hellhound?" he asked with a thick British accent, "Fang here is more like a love hound if yeh ask me. Licks everyone he meets!"

"So, it-it' not a hellhound?" Sam asked, squeezing Dean's hand. It was ice cold.

"Sammy, it hurts…." Dean said. Sam shushed him, wiping his forehead, hugging him tightly.

"It's okay, Dean," he said through his tears, "you'll be okay." He glanced at the stranger, "Please-" The stranger was already bending over and picking up Dean, "- be careful- a centaur shot an arrow in his back and it's pretty deep. I can't get it out…." The stranger nodded, carrying him bridal style. The dog followed obediently at his heels.

"I see- gonna stain meh clothes, that's for sure," he commented. Dean blinked as the two stood and started walking.

"Wh-who are you…?" he asked, his voice weak. He shivered and Hagrid held him closer to his burly chest, trying to keep the man warm.

"Nam's Hagrid," answered the man, "and you?"

"Hagrid…." Dean repeated, "Hey, Sammy?"

"Yeah, Dean?" Sam answered.

"If I die…." Sam stomped his foot, making Fang jump.

"You won't die, Dean!" Sam exclaimed, "you can't!"

"I know I won't," Dean said, annoyed, "but I'm saying if I do die, please don't tell Cas." Sam nodded as Hagrid looked at the two curiously.

"I won't, Dean," Sam said, wiping away his tears so Dean wouldn't see. He hated when Dean teased him for crying like a girl.

"Who's Cas?" Hagrid asked. He didn't get an answer though, because they were now walking across the school groups, past his hut. Sam pointed to it, "is that where you live?"

"Yep, but I don't have the supplies to take care of this one here, so we'll be taking yeh to the castle," Hagrid explained as they walked past a small group of teenage girls. They all had black robes and were carrying sticks, waving them around. The girls stopped and looked a them curiously. Sam shivered, his head throbbing. _Don't let it get to you, Sam_, he thought to himself, _keep it in. You don't want to freak out Dean. _Hagrid looked at him curiously.

"You okay, mate?" he asked, feeling Dean's blood drip off the sleeve of his coat. Other teenagers were around now, looking at them strangely. A blond girl sat on a bench as they passes, reading a magazine. Looking up, she waved and smiled, "Hello Hagrid!" she said cheerily.

"Luna!" Hagrid cried, "it's good to see you! Doing well, I hope?" Luna hopped off the bench, tucking her books under one arm as she joined them, saying, "I'm doing much better, yes. Who's this?" She gestured to Dean, then Sam.

"This is Dean, here," Hagrid lifted Dean a little, then jutted his chin at Sam, "and this 'ere is Sam. We need to get them to the infirmary. Could you run ahead and get Professor McGonagall for meh?" She nodded, running ahead, disappearing into the crowd of students.

"Sweet girl, she is," Hagrid said as they watched her go. Sam licked his lips as Dean moaned in pain, mumbling, "Sammy, it hurts… it hurts…." Sam grabbed his hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

"You'll be okay," he reassured him, but he knew it was no use. His brother looked ear already- was there poison laced in the arrow? The centaur didn't seem to have a motive, so it wasn't possible.

A woman strode down the hall towards them, her arms reaching out to Hagrid. Her black robes swept the floor as she walked, a pointed hat on her head. Her brown hair was tied in a bun and a pair of thin-rimmed glasses rested on the bridge of her nose.

"I heard!" she said, ushering them into a room, "come here, follow me." Sam followed them, Dean still clutching his hand. She led them down a bright hallway, torches lining the walls. Suits of armor were stationed at doors on either side of the corridor. Sam felt his feet sink into plush red carpet as he walked.

"Minerva, what are we gonna do?" Hagrid asked as she flung open a door, leading them in. Two four-poster beds with red canopies were on one side, pushed against opposite walls with a nightstand between them. There was a door that led to a larger room, filled with red couches. A fire was going in the hearth on the opposite side of the couches, almost hidden from view. Minerva helped Hagrid lay Dean on one of the beds, putting him on his side so as not to push the arrow further into his back.

"Hagrid, I need you to go get Madame Pomfrey in the infirmary. I'll go get Albus," she said, then to Sam, "Young man, I will need you to stay here. We'll need to ask you some questions and help your friend." Sam nodded, "Of course, of course." He watched the two exit the room, the door slamming behind them.


	4. Chapter 4

Minerva and Hagrid pushed past students until they reached Dumbledore's office. Smoothing her robes, she said, "What happened while you were in the Forbidden Forest?"

"Well, Fang an' I were making the usual rounds, until we heard screaming, so we ran and saw the two of them on the ground." Hagrid explained, "but he did ask me some weird question before we got here."

"Weird question?" Minerva asked skeptically. Hagrid thought all questions were weird unless it pertained to magic or animals. She bit her lip, waiting for Albus to open the door as Hagrid answered, "He asked if Fang was a 'hell hound'". Minerva blinked. What the hell was a hell hound?

"What exactly is that?" she asked him, pushing her glasses up her nose to keep them from falling. Hagrid shrugged as the door creaked open. A man in purple robes was in the doorframe, a pair of small round glasses on his face. His white beard was tied a the end with bells, a bunch of rings on his withered hand as he ushered them inside.

"What news do I receive today, Minerva?" Dumlbledore asked, reaching for a bowl on his desk, "Candy?" Minerva and Hagrid shook their heads. Dumbledore had strange taste in food- his candy usually ended up skittering away to live in the dark corners of the office.

"Hagrid found two men in the Forbidden Forest!" Minerva blurted out suddenly.

"And one was injured severely!" Hagrid added. Dumbledore nodded, folding his hands in front of him, "I have alerted Madame Pomfrey for you, Minerva, so no need to have Hagrid run over."

"Watching the Pensive, I presume?" Minerva asked, "so you know that we have them in the Gryffindor Common Room at this very moment?" Albus nodded. Colorful shadows danced on the floor of the office as light came in through the stained-glass windows. Albus swept past them and opened the door, "We should get going- Madame Pomfrey will beat us there if I gave her ahead start."

As they walked through the hall, Dumbledore nodded hello to various students as they passed. Inclining his head towards Minerva, he asked, "Did he mention anyone? The person who might have attacked him?" Minerva shook her head- she hadn't been there, Hagrid had.

"Well, it was a centaur that shot him- I heard galloping as I ran over," Hagrid explained. Dumbledore nodded. Firenze often had a bow and arrow, so he knew it was him.

"And?" Albus prompted.

"And then Dean- the injured one- told Sam- the non-injured one- that if he died to not tell someone named Cas," Hagrid continued, counting on his fingers. Albus nodded.

"And what are Sam and Dean's relationship?" Albus asked, "I'll have to put it in the records, even if they aren't students." Minerva nodded.

"I don't know- maybe a gay couple?" Hagrid answered, unsure of what to say. They had been holding hands for a while during that time, after all.

"We'll see," Dumbledore said as they turned a sharp left and down the brightly lit hall. The armor saluted Dumbledore as he passed.

Ron and Harry were sweating as they sloshed into the Common Room. Ron dumped his books on the floor and plopped himself on the nearest couch while Harry knelt down in front of the hearth, rubbing his hands for warmth.

"It was bloody freezing today," Ron complained, "what possessed Madame Hooch to have broom practice today?" The end of his nose was stark red. Scabbers twitched his whiskers and scampered down Ron's arm and across the floor, towards their bedroom. Harry glanced at the rat. He could see part of his bed from behind the wall that joined the two rooms, which he thought was pretty cool. It allowed him to see if anyone was there.

"I mean, my hands are nearly frozen!" Ron exclaimed, joining Harry by the fire, "Have you seen Scabbers?" Harry jutted his chin in the direction of their room.

"He went in our room," he answered, still looking at his bed. He felt as if they were not alone, somehow. Getting up, he tugged Ron's sleeve, "Ron, I think someone's here."

"What?" Ron asked, "that isn't possible. Only Gryffindor's can be in the Common Room. And besides, you said Scabbers went in there just now-"

"HOLY SHIT!" came a shout of alarm, making them jump. There was a loud crash as something fell. Ron and Harry ran into their room. Scabbers was on the floor, chasing his tail next to a broken lamp. Green glass lay shattered in pieces. On Ron's bed was a man, pressing his back against the wall, his eyes wide at Scabbers. He wore a plaid shirt and jeans, a watch on his wrist. His hair was brown and reach his shoulders. They looked at Harry's bed- there was another man laying in it- and he was bleeding all over the sheets.

"Who the bloody hell are you?!" Ron exclaimed, scooping Scabbers off the floor, placing him on his shoulder. The man panted, sliding until he was sitting on Ron's bed, his back against the wall. He ran a hand through his brown hair, answering, "Sam. Sam Winchester." Harry looked at him- he looked familiar.

"Have I seen you somewhere before?" he asked. Sam shrugged.

"I don't know," he said, "I've seen a lot of people before, haven't you?" Ron turned to stare at the other man. His skin was slick with sweat and pale, almost blue, "What's wrong with him?"

"Shot with an arrow," Sam gulped, "Don't touch him!" he then shouted as Ron went over to poke him.

"What's his name?" Harry asked.

"Dean," Sam answered, jumping as the door slammed open. In walked Professor McGonagall, Hagrid and Albus Dumbledore. Minerva tsked as she surveyed the mess, her eyes landing on Ron and Harry.

"Don't you have class?" she asked them. They shook their heads.

"Class was cancelled today," Harry explained, "Professor Sprout was not in." Minerva nodded, saying, "Alright, good. I assume you've already met these two, then?" She gestured to Sam and Dean.

"They bloody scared us to death!" Ron exclaimed. Sam jumped off the bed as Dean moaned.

"Sammy….." he groaned, "Samy, it hurts…."

"And if we don't so something my brother will bleed to death!" Sam felt the tears coming again. Madame Pomfrey came into the room suddenly, spouting all sorts of things like, "I have to fix 206 bones later…. kids can't get themselves out of trouble…." then said, "What now?" Minerva gestured toward the bed at Dean and Madame Pomfrey waddled over and took hold of his wrist, taking his pulse, immediately pulling her hand away.

"Fie! He's as cold as Jack Frost himself!" she cried, feeling his forehead. It was all sweaty. She wiped her hand on her apron, asking, "What happened to him?"

"A centaur shot him," Sam explained, "I tried pulling the arrow out, but it's in there pretty deep. I think it pierced a vital organ too. He's been like this since it happened." Madame Pomfrey rolled her eyes.

"That damn Firenze," she muttered, "always going around shooting things with his fancy toys…. Before we do anything, I'll need personal information to put in the records." Sam nodded, looking out the window. he had noticed something out of the corner of his eye. it was black and brown, looking eerily like…

"…..Castiel!" Sam exclaimed, going over to the window and unlocking it. There was a flurry of black feathers as a man came crash in in the room, wearing a brown trench coat and black pants, paired with a white shirt. He got up, dusting himself off, his wings unfurled as if he were ready to fly.

"Sam, what the hell happened?!" he shouted, his voice raspy. His wings flapped, sending things flying in the gust of wind he created. Sam's eye twitched, he felt his temple throb. His blood burned under his skin.

"Same to you!" Sam shouted back, "where the hell did you go?!"

"I returned the Angle Tablet to Heaven, you know that!" Castiel growled, pointing at Dean, "and he's almost dead by time I come back? What the hell happened in the time I was gone?!" He flapped his wings angrily as he pointed to Ron, Harry, Hagrid, Minerva and Albus, who were now clustered by the door, "and who the hell are they?!"

"They work here, they're gonna help!" Sam shouted, "unlike you! All you ever do is disappear on us when we need you most!" Castiel went to shout again, but faltered, a pained look crossing his blue eyes. His wings drooped.

"I did what Dean asked me to," Castiel finally said.

"Yeah, well, you sure took your sweet time about it," Sam grunted. Minerva stepped forward as they began to shout again, saying, "Boys! Boys! Enough! I'm sure it wasn't anyone's fault. Now let's stop fighting and-" Sam threw her hand down off his shoulder.

"All Dean and I ever did was fight!" he shouted at Castiel, "every day! We ran for our lives every day! Then you show up and we figured we would finally have someone who knew what that was like!"

"You know I was being controlled by Naomi, Sam," Castiel growled. He felt tears coming to his eyes.

"But you never told us!" Sam was crying freely now, "and you owe it to Dean- he cares about you- _we_ care about you!" Harry leaned over to Ron and asked, "What's going on?" Ron shook his head, saying, "I honestly have no idea."

"I helped you, didn't I?" Castiel asked, wiping away his tears. reaching out, he wiped away Sam's as well, his touch loving. Sam nodded.

"I know," Sam said, "and we'll always love you for that," he gestured toward Dean, "but right now we need to focus on Dean, okay?" Castiel nodded, kneeling besides the bed.

"Now that we're done fighting, let's get going, shall we?" Madame Pomfrey asked. Minerva and Hagrid were staring at Castiel in shock- the man had six foot wide wings sprouting from his back! Minerva glanced at Sam. who walked away from the group, sitting on on elf the couches. She tapped Albus on the shoulder, nodding to Sam. Glancing at Castiel and Dean, he wandered over to the couch where Sam was, holding his head. His shoulder were wracked with sobs.

"You know," Albus put a hand on Sam's shoulder, "you're very brave." Sam shook his head, his brow hair swaying in his face.

"No, I'm not," Sam admonished, "No I am not brave. I am the least brave person I know. Dean is the brave one. He's been to hell and back for me." Albus pondered this before answering, "And what was hell like for the two of you?" Sam laughed a bit.

"A sauna," he answered, his teeth sparkling white as he opened his mouth to laugh. He wiped away his tears, which he seemed to be doing a lot of lately. Albus gestured towards Dean and Castiel, "what are these people to you, Samuel Winchester?"

"Dean is my brother," Sam answered, "he's the best brother I could ever ask for. And Castiel? He's an Angel of the Lord. He came to earth to retrieve the Angel Tablet along with the Demon Tablet. He met us and we helped him. He helped us. He's part of our family, even if my family involves only us three." He grimaced as he felt his blood- the demon blood boil and throb in his head, Albus squeezed his shoulder. _The poor boy_, Albus thought. Sam laughed.

"Please, don't pity me," Sam said, surprising Albus.

"I'm not pitying you, Samuel," Albus said, shaking his head.

"And I'm not stupid. I can read minds," Sam tapped his temple with his finger, "you were pitying me and Dean and Cas just now in your thoughts." Albus' shoulders shook with laughter. This was definitely something new.

"Alright, boy, I guess you're right. I was pitying you," Albus said.

"I read somewhere in a book," Sam said, "Don't pity the living, pity the dead." Albus blinked, surprised. That quote was similar to what he told Harry last year.

"Why pity the dead?" Albus asked, "when they have nothing to live for?" Sam sighed, shaking his head, feel in the tears come again. He flinched as Dean cried out in pain- Madame Pomfrey was trying to get the arrow out, but it was stuck.

"Exactly," answered Sam, getting up to go to his dying brother.


	5. Chapter 5

The next day, Sam woke up in the morning, forlorn and exhausted. He glanced over to the room where Harry and Ron were sleeping. Both were tucked safely in their beds, fast asleep. Sam sighed. Those two were inseparable, Hagrid had explained to him earlier. They were almost brothers. Brothers. The word echoed in his head as he stretched, yawning.

"Are you up again?" Harry asked him, whispering as to not wake Ron, who snood with his head against the wall. Sam smiled at Harry.

"Unfortunately," he answered, as Harry ambled over to sit on the couch. The boy's hair was messy and unkempt, his pajamas wrinkled.

"You know, it's been a few days since your brother died," Harry said, "and I don't think he'd want you to be moping around like this." Sam nodded, remembering the past week. He had gotten up and helped Filch clean the castle as best he could. He'd had the students fight over if he was part giant or not, considering he was four inches taller than Hagrid, who _was_ part giant. He would have talked to Castiel, but Castiel seemed so upset over Dean's death that he had disappeared in a flash of light in front of everyone, not caring if anyone saw him use his celestial powers.

"How old are you, Harry?" Sam asked. Harry blinked.

"Seventeen, why?"

"Your parents died when you were one years old, right?" Harry nodded. _I'm not sure where he's going with this, but I'll just go with it,_ he thought as Sam asked, "And you have no siblings?" Harry nodded.

"Yeah, why?" Harry asked.

"That's rough," Sam commented, "that is rough indeed."

"It is, but what about you? You and Dean?" Harry asked. He might as well get to know the guy- he'd been sleeping in the Common Room for a week after all.

"Dean and I were young when our parents died," Sam said, "I think we were about seven years old at the time. That was also when I found out that our father was the Devil himself." Harry's eyes widened- was this guy deranged?!

"Our mother was human, so when we were born, Dean was completely, one hundred percent human," Sam continued, clearing his throat. Harry shrugged, "Well, what about you?"

"Me?" Sam chuckled, "I was half demon- am half demon, actually. My father nursed me on demon blood as an infant, which triggered my powers. But they stayed dormant until I was about twenty years old. I'm twenty-four now, so I've had demon powers for four years."

"And what kind of powers are these?" Harry asked. He had the feeling he should tell Hermione all these things later- maybe the three of them- him, Ron and Hermione- could go to the library to research the things Sam was telling him-

"Please, don't make me one of Hermione's little research papers," Sam said, making Harry jump.

"I-I wasn't-" he stuttered, Sam gave him a glare.

"I'm not an idiot," he said, "I can read minds." Harry gulped.

"Sorry," Harry apologized. Sam rubbed his forehead, running his hand through his hair.

"'S okay," Sam sighed, pushing himself off the couch, looking out the window, "it's okay. I guess I shouldn't mind being someone's test subject, since Crowley made me his when I was in Hell for the third time, but it bothers me, knowing that if it happens again, I won't have anyone to fish me out like last time."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"I was kidnapped one time during a mission. Bought to Hell where I was made into Crowley's slave, pretty much. Tortured everyday, as far as I could remember. Until Dean and Cas came to get me- along with the Demon Tablet, of course," Sam explained. Harry raised an eyebrow- he had no idea what Sam was talking about. He would have to go to Dumbledore and try to explain everything later, that was for sure- of course he would first talk to Hermione and Ron. Nodding, Harry got up from the couch, walking into his room to wake up Ron.

"Hey, Ron," Harry whispered sharply, shaking Ron's shoulder. Ron mumbled as he turned over, facing the wall.

"Five more minutes, mum," Ron mumbled sleepily, trying to wave Harry's hand away. Harry shook him harder, potentially squeezing his arm.

"Ow!" Ron cried with pain, rubbing his arm, "Harry! What did you do that for?" Harry shrugged, pulling Ron out of bed. Ron's robes were messy- he had fallen asleep in his clothes last night trying to finish an essay for Snape's class and fell asleep. Grabbing his unfinished essay, he followed Harry as he rushed to get dressed, eyeing Sam who was sitting on the couch.

"Were you busy- up, I mean?" Ron asked. Harry nodded, throwing his cloak on and slipping his yellow and red stripe tie over his neck. He fiddled with the cloth, trying to get the knot. Ron's own tie was slung around his shoulders, not tied at all. Scabbers had the end in his mouth and was happily nibbling on it.

"Yeah," Harry gulped as he left his tie messy and went to get his books, which were usually on the nightstand but were not there anymore. "Hey, Ron- did you touch my books?" Ron shook his head.

"Nope," Ron said, "unless you put them somewhere else?" Harry bit his lip, then sighed- he left them in the Common Room, but he really didn't want to talk to Sam again. The man was utterly depressing. _I guess you can't blame him,_ Harry thought, _his brother did die recently and all_.

Ron waved to Sam as they entered the Common Room, taking Scabbers off his shoulder and plopping him on the floor. Sam eyed the rat cautiously, then smiled at Ron. _if it was the kid's pet it shouldn't be dangerous_, he thought as the animal scampered over to him, sniffing his foot with its pink nose. He laughed as the rat climbed up his leg, its small feet tickling him as it moved.

"Blimey, that's weird," Ron said as he watched his rat perch on Sam's shoulder. Sam looked up from the animal, saying, "What's weird?"

"Scabbers is not very friendly- it's rare if he likes you," Ron explained, showing Sam his fingers which were covered in Band-aids, "He kept biting me while I tried to feed him dinner last night." Sam chuckled, holding the rat in his palm.

"What a troublemaker," he laughed, handing Scabbers back to Ron, "but I guess all animals cause trouble for us in a way, huh?" Ron shrugged, unsure of how to answer- unless it was a rhetorical question, of course. Ron liked those kind of questions because they didn't require answers. He probably would have gotten the answer wrong if it did require an answer anyway. Sam noticed Harry's tie as the boy bent down to pick up his books, which were on the floor by the fire, saying, "Want help with your tie, buddy?" Harry glanced down, confused, then said, "Oh, right! Really? Thanks." Sam pushed himself up off the couch and took the silk in his hands Looping the cloth, he made a knot, then another. He tugged at the end to straighten it out. Harry grinned, slinging his books over his shoulder, "Thanks. Where'd you learn to tie ties?"

"Back home I went to law school. I was an undergraduate," Sam answered nonchalantly.

"So you wanted to be a lawyer?" Ron chimed in. Sam nodded.

"Yeah- but I became a Hunter once my parents died, so there went my court room dreams," Sam chuckled to himself, patting Harry and Ron on the backs, ushering them toward the door of the Common Room that led to the main hall, "You guys should get going, You have class, remember?" They waved goodbye as they joined their friends- including Hermione, who was standing against the wall, reading a book. Glancing up, she saw him in the doorway and waved. He nodded hello and exited the Common Room, pushing past a group of students. He wanted to go to the library- _do they even have a library?_ he thought as he made a sharp left down a large staircase, the railings decorated with gold vines. His shoes slapped the floor as he jogged lightly down the stairs. Students gave him strange looks as he passed- they probably thought he was a giant, not a human like he said he was.

Once he got to the library, he slid past the woman at the front desk and walked aimlessly down the multiple aisles- he enjoyed the simplicity of a library. Everything was alphabetized and ordered so that you could find what you wanted swiftly and quickly. Sometimes he wished he would just disappear inside the books he read, to not have to deal with demons and leviathans and Crowley- but he knew that was inevitable. He owed it to Dean to continue their hunt. He ran his fingers along the spines of the books, until he came across a frayed black spine, the writing faded and ancient. Carefully, he pulled it off the shelf, opening the front cover. It was blank. Walking out of the aisle, book in hand, he sat himself at the nearest table and flipped through the pages- all were blank.

"That's weird…." he muttered to himself. There wasn't even a date on any of the pages, no notes, nothing. He checked the front cover- that was blank too. The writing on the spine was too faded to be able to read as well.

"Whatcha reading?" asked a voice, sweet and sounding like bells, making Sam jump in his chair. Luna pulled up a chair, tossing her blond hair over her shoulder. She wore a blue and gray striped tie with her robes- different than the ones Harry and Ron were wearing.

"How come your tie is a different color than Harry and Ron's?" he asked.

"Because I'm in a different house, of course," she explained. Sam raised an eyebrow.

"House?" he asked, "but this is a school, isn't it?"

"It is, but we're separated into the four Houses," Luna said, counting off her fingers, "There's Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and Ravenclaw. I'm a Ravenclaw. Harry and Ron are Gryffindors." Sam nodded as if he understood- which he didn't, of course. The system seemed weird and confusing. What if you had friends in different Houses? You wouldn't be able to see them at all. Luna was holding a wooden stick gingerly between her fingers. Sam jutted his chin at it, asking, "And what's that? A wand or something?" Luna nodded.

"It is a wand!" she exclaimed, "do you have one? Mine is made of unicorn hair, very flexible, good for spells of all sorts." Sam shook his head. He had guns and grenades in the trunk of the Impala, but not a wand. He could cast spells using his voice, not a wand. He and never used one in his life.

"That's uh…. that's great, I'm sure," Sam assured her.

"So, whatcha reading?" she asked, eyeing the book.

"I uh, don't know actually," he said, "there's no title on it, and the words on the spine are faded to a point that I don't know what it says." Luna sighed.

"That's too bad," she said, "it's probably very good though, huh?" Sam shook his head, showing her the pages.

"That's the thing, there's nothing to read," he said, flipping through the blank pages once more. Luna furrows her brow, folding her hands together. Her nails were painted an assortment of colors and she had a plastic blue and green butterfly ring on her finger.

"Again, that's too bad," she repeated, getting up. The chair scratched the floor as she pushed it back, "Well, I have to get to class, so see you around, Mr. Winchester." She skipped off to the front of the library, blond hair bouncing as she went. There was a tap on his shoulder and he turned to find a boy- probably seventeen, like Harry- sneering down at him. He had almost platinum blond hair and menacing green eyes. A green and gray silk tie was around his neck.

"So, I heard that you're…..special," said the boy, his face screwed up as if he had just eaten a lemon. Sam shrugged.

"Um, I guess?" he said, unsure of how to answer him. The boy stuck out his hand, pale and slender, "Draco Malfoy," he said, "my father works at the Ministry of Magic. I think we should be friends."

"What…..?" Sam asked, confused. Draco rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You're special, I'm special. We should be friends," Draco explained, leaning his elbows on the desk, "I mean, there's no reason to hang around that stupid girl." Sam raised an eyebrow- did he mean the girl who was just here? Luna? Sam shook his head.

"Thanks, but, I think I'm good," Sam said, "if you really want to meet a special person, you should meet Cas. He's an Angel of the Lord." Draco scoffed, squinting his green eyes.

"Yeah, and I'm the Minister of Magic," he joked, sending a stream of spit to the floor.

"You think I'm lying?" Sam asked, "because you can ask him yourself, you know. If i ever find him, that is…." Draco let out a drawl of laughter, shaking his head.

"Boy, you are something else," he said to himself, "and you know what that is? Stupid. I can't believe I'm wasting my precious time on you…." He started walking away when there was a sudden flash of light. Sam and Draco shielded themselves from the blinding brightness, until it disappeared. Standing before them was Castiel, his trench coat wet. Water dripped from the ends of his hair and his white shirt was rumpled. The blue tie he wore around his neck was loose and crooked.

"Don't insult Samuel Winchester," Castiel barked, his face red with anger, "I can hear you from the other side of the country as if you were on the other side of the room."

"What? That's insane!" Draco accused, poking the angel's chest with a slender finger. Castiel shoved Draco backwards, "Don't touch me. I am a celestial being. An Angel of the Lord. If you threaten me I have a whole band of Archangels ready for attack." Draco pushed past them, muttering under his breath that his father was going to hear about this and that they better watch out. Castiel watched until he disappeared around the corner, plopping himself in the chair next to Sam.

"Where the hell have you been?!" Sam exclaimed, slapping the table. He slammed the book shut, a tiny cloud of dust rising in the air. Water stained the floor as it dripped off the angel. It must have been raining, wherever he was.

"I don't know," he answered, rubbing his thigh nervously, "when I disappeared in that flash of light at the funeral? That wasn't out of sadness. Something…..happened. I don't know how to explain it." His blue eyes flitted nervously around the room, watching the students as they read books or chatted with friends, not paying attention tot eh two of them.

"What do you mean, something happened?" Sam asked. Castiel shrugged, noticing the book.

"Like I said, i don't know how to explain it," Castiel repeated, pointing to the book, "what is that?" Sam glanced at the book, pushing it to Cas across the table, "A piece of crap. There's nothing written in it."

"At all?" Cas asked, flipping over to the front page, then the rest of the book.

"At all," Sam confirmed. Cas squinted at the pages, his finger moving across the page as if he were tracing where the words were.

"That's weird, because there's an entry here," he said. Sam raised an eyebrow- were celestial beings the only ones able to read it then?

"But I looked through it twice, there is absolutely nothing written in the book," Sam gestured to the pages as Cas flipped through it, mouthing random words. "What are you reading? There's nothing there, Cas."

"No, there is," Cas said, his eyes still on the page, "but it's weird. It's almost like I'm…. talking to someone directly, not reading an entry. It was dated, so assume this is a diary or journal of some sort." Sam shrugged.

"I guess, but are you the only one able to read it?" Sam suggested, tugging at the sleeve of his plaid shirt. The cloth was starting to itch his skin slightly. He absentmindedly scratched his arm while Cas shut the book.

"i guess, I mean, you're half human half demon and you weren't even able to read it," Cas said, "so if you couldn't read it, then no human can read it." Getting up, the chairs scraped the floor while Cas began walking, tucking the book under his arm. Sam watched as he walked right past the front desk and tried to walk out with the book. The woman at the front desk- a wrinkled lady with dyed red hair and glasses hanging on a chain around her neck- stopped him, saying, "Sir! You need to check that book out before you leave!" Sam rolled his eyes as Castiel gave her a confused look, glancing at the book, then bad at the woman asking, "What do you mean?"

"You need to check it out of the library," she said. Sam walked over, taking Castiel by the arm, dragging him to the desk, "I'm sorry Miss," he said, "my friend has never been in a library, he's unsure of how these things work." Her eyes widened with shock.

"Oh, you poor thing!" she said sweetly, "never being at a library! Imagine the horror!" She took the book from Castiel and scanned it with a wand, handing it back.

"I know, it's terrible," Sam said, "but he's new here, so I'll be helping him, don't worry." The woman nodded, smiling, saying "It's so nice to see new faces and seeing people spark their interests for books, you know?" Sam nodded in agreement while Cas stared at the book, then at her, then back at the book.

"I'm so confused….." he muttered as Sam steered him out the door.

"I'll teach you library etiquette later, okay buddy?" Sam said, "because right now we have to go meet someone and it's just crossed my mind that this is very urgent."

"Urgent? How?" Cas asked as he and Sam broke into a jog, clomping up a set of nearby stairs, past students who were practicing spells. As they passed a girl made warts appear on her friend's face, and another was showing a teacher a list of herbs for a class potion they made, chatting excitedly about what it would do.

"I'm hoping he'll be able to explain it for us," Sam said when they finally reached the door. The wood was ajar as if he had been waiting for them to come by.


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron, who was trying to make his wand light at the tip. The spell was very simple, but Ron always had a way of botching things up. His wand was snapped in half, bound back together with Spell-O Tape. They were in the Great Hall, which was surprisingly empty. Usually there were students everywhere, stealing food off one another's plates, running around or receiving mail from owls.

"Lumos!" Ron chanted again, and grinned broadly as the tip of his wands flashed a bulbous blue.

"Well, now that we have that done, what is it you want to tell me?" she asked, bored and somewhat annoyed. They were always cutting into her study time to have her help with their outlandish plans- of course, they usually end up woking anyway.

"Well," Harry cleared his throat, "it's about Sam." Hermione raised an eyebrow at him.

"Sam Winchester?" she asked, "the one who's been here for the past two weeks?" Harry nodded.

"Hey, isn't he the one whose brother died last week?" Ron asked, putting his wand down on the table. Scabbers crawled over and began sniffing at the tape. Harry nodded.

"Well, what about him?" Hermione asked.

"This morning he was talking with me in the Common Room," Harry began as he fidgeted with his tie- the one Sam helped him with, "and he was saying some weird things when I asked him about his life in the past…." He trailed off, running a hand nervously through his messy black hair.

"Well, what did he say about himself?" Hermione asked. She tapped her pen against the table as if she were playing drums. Harry shrugged, "I don't know…..he said some pretty weird things."

"Don't keep repeating yourself, tell me!" Hermione demanded, slamming her book shut.

"Okay, but prepare yourself for the strangest thing ever," Harry said as he coughed, "he said he and Dean were seven when their parents died. And that was also when they found out their father was the Devil, or something like that." Ron blinked, scratching his head, "Does he mean…..well, Voldemort?" Harry shook his head, continuing, "I don't know, but then he went on to say their mother was human."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Hermione asked folding her hands on the table.

"He said when they were born Dean came out one hundred percent human," Harry explained.

"What does that even mean?" Ron muttered to himself. He had knew they were up talking, but it sounded like utter nonsense so far as he sat listening.

"It means that there was something wrong with Sam," Harry said, "he said that he came out half human."

"What's the other half then?" Hermione asked. She was intrigued, and should probably be taking notes, but left her notebook in her bag, intending to listen instead.

"The other half is….demon," Harry gulped, "And no, not Death Eater if that was your question." Hermione sighed, sitting back in her chair.

"How did that come to be then?" Ron asked, resting his elbows on the table. He was still confused, but pretended not to show it- he wanted to make Hermione think he was able to follow the conversation.

"He said he was fed demon blood as an infant-" Ron gagged as he said this- "and that his powers were dormant until he was twenty years old. He's twenty four now, so he's had these powers for four years." Hermione grumbled, bending over and taking out her notepad, her pen resting on the table. Picking it up, she clicked it and rested the tip on the paper, "Shoot."

"What are you doing?" Harry asked.

"I'm going to make a list of these powers he says he has and show them to Professor Lupin, see if he can analyze why he's the way he is," Hermione explained, nodding at him, "so what did he say?"

"Uh…." Harry trailed off, gulping. Sam had said he didn't want to become Hermione's test subject, like he had Crowley's while in Hell. He had seemed a bit shaken by it too- what exactly happened?

"Well?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow, "I don't have all day, Harry. My arm is getting tired."

"Oh, uh, well he did say he was able to read minds," harry said as Hermione began scribbling on her pad.

"Read minds?" Ron asked, "like… Edward Cullen?" Hermione swatted him with her notebook.

"Did you actually read the Twilight series?" she asked, astonished. Ron was never one to read books- and the Twilight series was the crappiest series ever written, in her opinion Sure, it had sparked a phenomena around the world and inspired five hit movies, but she still didn't like it. And why had Ron read it? The series was aimed at hopeless romantics which consisted of teenage girls who had a thing for blood. Ron shielded his head.

"What?" he asked, "what's the big deal? It's just a book!" Hermione rolled her eyes as Harry cut in, saying, "To answer your question, yes like…Edward Cullen, I guess." Hermione poised her pen above the paper, ready to write some more.

"Okay. Anything else he say?" she asked. Harry shook his head.

"No, besides the fact that he was studying to brome a lawyer," Harry explained, "he said he was an undergraduate at a law school." Hermione nodded, putting her pen down and tucking her notepad under her arm.

"That isn't a big help, but we'll go with it," she said, "come on. Let's go to Defense against the Dark Arts." Chairs scratched the floor as they got up, exiting the brightly lit Great Hall. Pushing past crowds of other kids, they reached a stairwell and clomped down it, Ron almost slipping not eh cold stones.

"Careful!" he warned them as he caught the railing, catching himself before he fell, "it's slippery!"

"Thanks for the tip," Hermione said, running ahead, bounding down the steps with a graceful jump. The door was ajar, water dripping from the ceiling. The sound echoed as water droplets splashed the concrete, making puddles. The heavy door creaked as the three of them push fit open, slipping inside. A man stood with his back to them, wearing a large brown coat.

"Professor Lupin!" Hermione called out to him. The man ignored her, kept doing whatever it was he was occupied with. The three took a fe steps towards hm, Hermione taking out her pad and flipping to the page where she wrote down the information.

"Professor Lupin," she repeated, "I have something i wish to discuss with you. It's very important that you listen so please turn around." The man sighed, his footsteps echoing as he began to turn.

"Samuel, my boy, please come help me with this!" called Remus Lupin from another room. The man's head snapped up and they could see now it was Sam- his brown hair and how it frame chis face, the plaid shirt peeking out from under the jacket. He placed a pair of glass vials carefully on the counter and strolled over to help the teacher, completely ignoring the three of them.

"That was close," Ron commented, "you almost told Sam what was happening."

"Oh, shut up, Ron," Hermione muttered. Remus and Sam came in again, carrying a large wooden trunk. Chains were wrapped around it and there was a large padlock on the front. Banging it, they plopped it on the floor. Remus smiled hone he saw them, warm and welcoming.

"Oh, it's you three!" he said cheerfully, "i thought I heard someone calling my name." Sam nodded inter direction.

"Hey," he said, biting his lip.

"Hello," Hermione said, then to Remus, "Professor, there's something important we need to discuss with you." She had her notepad out, ready to be read from.

"Can it wait?" Remus asked, "Sam is about to help me set up the lesson for next class. Boggarts! What fun!" At this the chest began to shake, the chains rattling. Sam eyed it uneasily, "Of course, being from America, Sam never saw one before so it's his first time, how exciting!" Remus patted Sam on the back.

"Yeah, well, I've seen some pretty scary things back home," Sam said, "I'm sure this won't be any different." Remus chuckled as Sam walked over to the door, saying, "I'm going to go find Cas. I'll be back. Remus raised an eyebrow at him.

"Who might this Cas be?' he asked. Sam smiled.

"A friend," he answered, "I want you to meet him." Slipping through the door, he slammed it behind him. They could hear his footsteps as he ran up the stairs.

"Thank goodness he's gone," Hermione muttered, clearing her throat. Remus clasped his hands in front of him.

"What can I do for you?" he asked.

"It's about Sam," Ron said.

"What about Sam?"

"There's something not right about him," Harry said, gesturing to Hermione's notepad, "and we were wondering if you could help us figure it out." Hesitantly, Remus took the pad from Hermione, his eyes scanning the page. He gasped suddenly, shoving at Hermione.

"Professor, are you okay?" Harry asked as he went over to a shelf full of large books. The spines were old and dusty, the writing on them faded to the point you couldn't read the titles. He pulled out a fairly medium sized black book. There was no writing on the cover, and you couldn't read the title on the spine.

"He came in earlier with this," Remus said, handing it to Hermione, "but before he came in something strange happened."

"Like what?" Ron asked.

"There was this blinding flash of light, but before that it sounded as if he was talking to someone…" Remus trailed off as he reread Hermione's notes.

"Like who?" Harry asked. Remus shrugged, never taking his eyes off the page.

"I don't know, but the other person seemed a bit…. off, in a way."

"What exactly do you mean?" Hermione twirled he hair on her finger- a habit she picked up from hanging out with Luna often, as well as Ginny.

"His voice was all raspy and he seemed a bit confused, as if he didn't know what to do," Remus explained, "and he mentioned something about a Demon Tablet…." He shrugged as his voice trailed off.

"Sam mentioned that when I was talking with him this morning," Harry chimed in.

"Really?" Remus asked, "I'm wondering what it is, do you know?" Harry shook his head saying Sam had never mentioned its use or why he needed it.

"Okay, but who is this other person?" Remus asked.

"That would be me," came a raspy voice from behind him. Remus jumped, swiveling on his heel to come face to face with a man. His dark hair was dripping wet, his blue tie unknotted. The white shirt he wore was wrinkled and there was a mud stain on the brown trench coat he wore over it.

"Who are you?" Remus asked. Harry, Ron and Hermione stood there with shock- where had he come from?

"I," the man said with a pause, "am Castiel. Or Cas for short. Whichever one you prefer." The three young wizards jumped as the door to the classroom slammed open and Sam came running in.

"Cas- seriously you need to stop doing that," he panted, leaning on his knees to catch his breath, "I can't keep up."

"Sorry, Sam," Cas said, "I didn't mean to trouble you. But you should be able to keep up. You are half demon after all." Sam shook his head.

"Again," he said, "I am not a celestial being-"

"Yes, you are, Sam. Demons are a type of celestial being. They may not be as great as Angels, but they are still considered celestial beings." Cas interrupted, ignoring the fact they had an audience.

"- Okay. But I am not an Angel of the Lord. I can't just disappear and reappear at will." Cas nodded his head, "Sorry, Sam. Hey, what is this guy doing with the book?" He gestured towards the black book Remus was holding, "he's human, he can't read it."

"I asked him to look over it, see if it was linked to the Demon Tablet," Sam explained. Cas nodded.

"Since I bought the Angel Tablet to heaven, right?" Cas asked. He seemed like a child trying to piece together a puzzle. Sam nodded. Remus blinked.

"Wait- you've been to Heaven?" he asked Castiel, who ignored him.

"Yeah, he's been to Heaven," Sam answered for him, "and so have I."

"What was it like?" Remus asked with wonder, his eyes lighting up.

"I wouldn't know. I was cast into Hell for refusing to believe in someone other than God Almighty himself," Sam said, taking the book from Remus, "and we'll need this." Ron's eyes bugged, nearly coming out of their sockets. These two were obviously crazy. Sam rushed to shove the book in Castiel's coat.

"What are you doing, Sam?" he rasped as Sam finally got it to fit in one of the inside pockets.

"I need you to take this to Heaven," Sam said, "immediately."

"But why?" Cas gave him a concerned look, almost loving. He would have loved to give him a hug, but there was an audience, and Dean had taught him not to act mushy in front of people unless it was only you and the other person you wanted to be mushy with. He still didn't know what being mushy even meant.

"Because Crowley is here," Sam gulped, "and he's ready to kill me."

"What did you do now?" Cas asked, rolling his blue eyes- a trick he got from Dean as well.

"Don't roll your eyes, Cas!" Sam panicked, "just disappear like you always do! Come on! He saw me- he'll be here any minute!" Sam froze as he heard a faint barking, some screams.

"What was that?" Ron whimpered, tears starting to form. Remus pulled the three of them away from the door, pulling out his wand. He pointed it at the door, ready to fire any spell that came to him.

"That would be Crowley," Sam muttered, then to Cas, "you have to go now!"

"But what about you?" Cas asked, "he'll rip you to shreds unless his dogs do it first!"

"I'll be fine, Cas," Sam protested, "now go!" Cas gave him a forlorn look, leaning over. His lips lightly brushed Sam's cheek as a white light began to envelop him.

"If you die, i want you to know,"Cas said, "that I love you, Samuel Winchester. As well as Dean. You two will be forever in my heart." There was loud banging on the door, accompanied with barks and growls.

"Oh, Sammy!" sang a voice, muffled through the wood, "guess who came to visit!" Sam turned back to Cas, waving him off as the light covered him completely and he disappeared. Turning back to the door, he reached into his coat and pulled out a scythe, the metal stained red with rust and years of use. Remus eyes it suspiciously.

"What is that?" he asked as there was another bang on the door Hermione, Harry and Ron whipped out their wands, preparing themselves.

"Wands won't do any good," Sam gulped.

"Of course they will- much better then those weapons you're carrying," Hermione said. Sam shook his head.

"Not against Hell Hounds," he explained, "these things were bred so they could withstand anything. They don't die unless you slice them open. Spells will not work on them."

"Well, what about Crowley, whoever he is?" Ron asked nervously.

"Same thing, except he's go to be decapitated and the body burned," Sam explained, "he's Lucifer's right hand man and wants to see me dead. They did it to Dean already- I won't let it happen to me, or to any of you, so please put away your wands and run." There was another bang on the door and it fell off its hinges, crashing to the ground. In sauntered Crowley, hell hounds at his feet. He waved a hand behind him and the door sprang upright, latching itself in its proper place. There was a click as he snapped his fingers, locking the door.

"Oh, Sammy, I love it when you get serious," Crowley cooed, stroking his chin, "makes me shiver right where my bathing suit goes, you know." he smiled naughtily as the dogs circled them, about three in the pack.

"Ugh, gross," Hermione commented as Ron and Harry gagged.

"What do we have here?" Crowley asked, "little minions to do your bidding?"

"These are my friends," Sam said through gritted teeth.

"Last I checked, I didn't allow you to have friends," Crowley said, glowering, "and Lucifer will not like it, I'm sure."

"I don't care what my father thinks!" Sam cried, "I'm not going back there!" Crowley examined his nails, bored. He had to deal with Sam many times since Lucifer was too lazy to take care of his own children.

"You're just like that brat, Meg," he commented, then added, "Kevin as well."

"What did you do to Meg and Kevin?' Sam asked, his voice bitter.

"Who's Meg and Kevin?" Hermione asked, but they ignored her.

"Killed her," Crowley said blankly, "And Kevin? Tortured him for not following my orders- just like your father wants me to do to you." The hounds circled the four wizards, their wands useless against them.

"Fine," Sam said, "come get me. Just don't hurt them."

"Hurt who?" Crowley eyed the wizards, who were now backed against a wall.

"My friends!" Sam yelled, "Don't you dare hurt my friends or I will kill you!"

"Funny that hasn't happened yet," Crowley teased, "and you don't have friends."

"I do!" Sam shouted, "Dean was my friend!" Crowley raised a finger.

"Note that you said was. He's dead, thus he is no longer your friend. And where's that Angel of the Lord you two were always with?"

"Heaven," Sam answered, "with the book that you so desperately want." He smiled when Crowley's face fell.

"You little brat," Crowley muttered, "I need that book!" Hermione squealed as the hounds snapped at the hem of her skirt, tearing the fabric.

"Hey!" Ron shouted, "don't touch my girlfriend!" He swatted at the dogs with his wand, then screamed as one of them grabbed it from him and snapped it in half. Splinters fell to the ground as the dog chewed on it like it was a new squeaky toy.

"My wand!" he cried, pushing Hermione behind him. Remus had a protective arm around Harry.

"How cute!" Crowley mocked, "unfortunately, I'll have to question you Sam. I need that book." Sam sent a trail of spit at the floor.

"I won't tell you anything," Sam said through clenched teeth. Crowley took a few steps towards him, raising a hand. The wizards watched as the teacher's chair glided across the floor, bumping into Sam so he was sitting in it. Crowley laughed, snapping his fingers. Obediently, the hounds left the four wizards and circled around their master. Reaching into his coat, Crowley pulled out a rope, the strings frayed, spotted with red. _Blood_, Sam thought as Crowley unraveled it.

"Then I'll make you tell me," he threatened, throwing the rope around Sam. The dogs caught the end of the ropes in their mouths, circling the chair, "just like I did with Kevin."


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione flinched as they heard Sam scream again. The four of them- Ron, Harry, Professor Lupin and herself- were backed up against a wall, being watched tentatively by Crowley's hell hounds, watching painful as Crowley tortured Sam, who was tied to the chair. Blood splattered the floorboards as Crowley slashed Sam's arm with his scythe.

"You know," Crowley said, "you really turn me on when tied up like that." He smiled, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his black shirt. Ron gagged as Crowley said this, Remus shaking his head with disgust- the man was such a pervert it was absolutely despicable, the way he openly harassed Sam. Sam tugged against the ropes, but it was no use. They were digging into his skin, the ones across his neck, cutting off his airways. Sweat beaded on his forehead. His blood was splashed across the metal of Crowley's weapon.

"You fucking sadist," Sam gasped as the rope left red, raw gashes on his neck. Crowley shivered, holding a hand in front of his pants.

"Down, boy," he said to himself, "Moosey is just playng with us is all." Remus curled his hands into fists, shaking them furiously- what Crowley was doing was completely unacceptable.

"You sir, are absolutely disgusting!" Remus shouted. Crowley rolled his eyes.

"Shut up, old man," he barked. The dogs snarled, foam dripping from their mouths. Crowley turned back to Sam eyeing him, cocking his head, "Hot? Maybe you should take off your coat!" Getting extremely close, Crowley raised his blade, tucking the tip under the collar of Sam's shirt. There was a loud rip as he pulled in random directions, slicing away at the fabric. Pieces of Sam's shirt and coat fell to the ground, leaving his chest bare, revealing the purple pentagram tattoo Sam had on his chest. Hermione noticed it, widening her eyes with shock.

"What is that thing on his chest?!" she asked frantically jumping as the hell hounds snapped at her feet. Harry squinted as Crowley plunged his knife into Sam's shoulder, blood splashing everywhere, staining their clothes, the chair, the floor, Sam's skin painted with the substance. His cries echoed in the room, bloodcurdling and painful to hear.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Crowley barked, "just like last time! I'll make you squeal like a pig out to slaughter!" He plucked the knife from Sam's shoulder, making him scream at the top of his lungs. Panting, Sam pulled at the ropes, uselessly trying to escape. As he thrashed, the ropes on his neck became tighter, cutting off his airways completely. Gasping, he tensed his body, glancing at his hands. His fingers were shaky and turning blue due to the lack of oxygen.

"Even if you're half demon, you're still half human, thus you need to be a human in order to survive," Crowley said, tracing Sam's collar with the tip of the blade, drawing a thin line of blood. Sam flinched, his eyes trailing over to Harry, Ron, Hermione and Remus. Gritting his teeth, he tensed his muscles as Crowley raised his blade, ready to strike again. It was his fault they got into this mess, so he was going to hopefully find them a way out.

"Even if you try to kill me, Cas will just bring me back again," Sam said, a sly smile on his face. Crowley rolled his eyes, bouncing the blade along Sam's skin, scratching him slightly. Every breath he used to speak was shallow, barely audible.

"Funny, you are," Crowley teased, sliding the blade across the bridge of Sam's nose, "don't try to fool me. We both know you aren't welcome back in Heaven. God made Michael make sure of that." Sam went to pounce at Crowley, held back by his bonds. Hermione screeched as the hell hound ripped the sleeve of her sweater, its teeth grazing her skin. Sam squeezed his eyes shut as Crowley ran the blade across his face, dangerously close to his eyes. Blood dripped warm down his face, leaving trails of red stained on his skin, mingled with sweat. He really hoped Cas wouldn't appear out of nowhere. He didn't want the angel to see him like this- helpless and pitiable.

"Please, Cas," Sam gasped, his voice barely audible, "please….." He felt his voice skipping away from him as dots of color invaded his vision. His body jerked as Crowley slashed and sliced, stabbing him repeatedly. Blood flowed freely, the chair awash in a sea of red. A salty smell was in the air as he felt his blood escape from his veins, staining everything as it dripped.

"Stop!" he heard Remus shout, and there was a blur as a flash of silver flew through the air, aimed at Crowley. Everything looked as if it was watery, blackness creeping into the corners of Sam's peripheral vision. The hell hounds snarled as Remus jumped over them, knocking one to the ground. With cries of rage, he charged at Crowley, who kept his attention on Sam, scooping up blood in his hands, drinking it gingerly. It dripped from his lips, he wiped the rest on his pants.

"Shut up, old man!" Crowley snapped, lifting the blade under Remus' chin, stopping him in his tracks, "Sam, you're blood is delicious- please, let me drink…" Sam thrashed as Crowley tossed the blade aside. It clattered against the floorboards. Crowley jumped as there was a loud bang on the door.

"Remus?" called a voice- _Hagrid's voice!_ Harry thought, as the banging came again. Remus hesitantly ran towards the door, banging on the wood.

"Hagrid! Hagrid!" he shouted frantically, "Help us! Get Dumbledore, anybody!" Crowley glared at him, his eyes shooting daggers.

"Shut up old man!" he repeated, grabbing Sam by the hair, pulling his head back to expose his neck. Sam emitted a strangled scream, hoping it will help Hagrid realize there was something wrong if Remus' cries of agony didn't already warn him.

"What was that?" Hagrid asked, his voice muffled through the wood, "and why is the door locked?!"

"We're trapped in here with a psychotic murderer!" Remus cried, sweat dripping off his forehead. Hell hounds trotted to the door, surrounding Remus, potentially guarding the door. There was a flash of light from under the door and then Hagrid shouted, "Who's with you?"

"Harry, Hermione, Ron," Remus rattled off their names, then jumped as Sam let out another strangled cry, "Sam needs help- we're powerless in here and he's getting tortured to death- literally. Get help now!

On the other side of the door, Hagrid was beating the door with his large fists- he had indeed heard Sam's screams of agony and heard the barking of the hell hounds. He heard another man in the room, teasing and taunting them- _Crowley, they called him_, Hagrid thought as he beat the door, the hinges breaking free. The metal clanged on the ground as the door itself caved in, crumbling to the ground at his feet. he kicked his way through the rubble, swinging a pink umbrella. Grabbing Remus, he pulled him through and into the hallway.

"Why didn't you think of Apparating, man?!" Hagrid exclaimed.

"I couldn't! Samuel is in there at the point of death! He has no wizarding skills!" Remus said, "so we couldn't leave him alone!" As if on cue, Sam screamed again, and Remus jumped as Harry, Ron, and Hermione appeared with a blue flash and loud crackle.

"What the-?!" he exclaimed as the three of them ran past in a hurry, galloping up the stairs. Grabbing Remus, Hagrid followed- the three were running towards Dumbledore's office- in fact they were running towards the Head Master himself. He was striding out the door, whistling a little tune as he walked. His purple robes swept the floor behind him, the bells on his beard jingling as they swayed with his movements.

"What's the rush, Harry?" Albus asked as harry nearly tripped over his feet, grabbing the man's arm and pulling him in the direction of the dungeon.

"Sam. Nearly dead. Hurry!" Harry explained in short clipped sentences. rolling his eyes, Albus pulled out his wand and with a flick of his wrist, he and Harry were in the dungeon. The others ran in a few seconds later, gasping. Every surface was covered with red. Crowley was standing over Sam, the chair tipped on its side.

"Stop!" Albus' voice boomed, echoing ton the walls. Crowley's head snapped up, his eyes full of shock. Clenching the handle, Crowley snarled, raising his arm, In a flash, he hurled the blade. The air whistled as it sailed through the air, then suddenly flew to the side, sticking itself fast into the wall.

"What the-?!" Crowley sputtered, his eyes wide with shock. Sam shivered as he tried breathing, lying in a large pool of his own blood. Albus stood, his wand in the air, flicking the weapon aside.

"I believe you should untie the young man and go," Albus commanded, giving Crowley a stern glare. Crowley scoffed, kicking Sam's head. His neck snapped back and there was a loud crack. Sam's eyes went wide as he felt something splinter, the ripping of his skin-

"NO!" Castiel suddenly bellowed, a flash of light momentarily blinding him. The angel raced at Crowley, hands raised. A ball of light surged from his palm, straight at Crowley's head.

"Gotta go!" Crowley teased, and there was a sudden mass of black smoke in the air, making everyone cough. Castiel sank to his knees at Sam's side, his fingers ripping at the ropes that bound him. Tears streamed down his face, dripping off his chin.

"Cas," Sam said, smiling. He winced as the angel tugged at a rope on his neck, a sudden rush of air entering his lungs. Spit flew out of his mouth as he hacked, gasping for breath.

"Sam, i should have never left," Cas muttered to himself, "first Dean and now you-" he stopped short when he noticed Sam's blood running in rivulets on his fingers, "- and for what? A stupid Tablet?" Sam wheezed- every breath was like a dagger being twisted into his flesh, deep and scathing.

"As long as we can close the gates of Hell, I don't care what happens to me," Sam said, trying to remind the angel that they had more important things to worry about. Chaos was still in the world- demons and angels at war, the earth their battlefield. Humans were oblivious and were mercilessly killed by either side, and the Tablets were going to help change that. What he needed was for Castiel to focus, not pity him at times like this.

"Okay, Sam…" Castiel said on the verge of tears, "okay."


	8. Chapter 8

"Is he….?" Remus asked, trying to avoid saying it. There was so much blood, it was impossible for him to have survived. Castiel gravely nodded, his fingers pressed against Sam's eyelids. Gently, he pulled them down, closing Sam's eyes.

"Yeah…." Cas heaved a sigh, his raspy voice even more static sounding then before. Hermione squeaked, burying her face in Ron's shoulder, her tears stinging the sleeve of his sweater. Ron didn't mind though- the sweater was a homemade gift from his mother at Christmas- a maroonish colored thing that was lumpy in all the wrong places and itchy- very uncomfortable to wear.

"I'm sorry," Remus apologized, walking over to Castiel. He placed a hand on the angel's shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. Cas jerked away, glaring.

"For what?" he asked scornfully, "it isn't your fault! There's no reason to apologize!"

"But I was there when it happened- I could have done something to-"

"There was nothing you could do, Remus Lupin!" Cas bellowed, cutting his protests short. With a flair, he gestured to everyone in the room, "There was nothing anyone could have done. Your wands, your magic is _powerless_ against demons and angels!"

"How is that so?" Harry piped up. His glasses were foggy and blood was streaking his clothes, turning brown and crusty.

"The magic used by demons and angels are vastly different from that of you wizards," Castiel explained.

"Don't forget witches!" Hermione scoffed, then jumped when Cas barked, "you know what I mean, Hermione Granger! A smart girl like you should realize that!" She fell silent, Ron wrapping his arms around her, hugging her close. _Blimey_, Ron thought, _this guy is-_

"Mean? Unstable? Yeah, I get that a lot," Castiel muttered. Ron gaped at him-

"And yes, I just read your thoughts," Cas said, "I don't want Little Miss Einstein to turn me into her research paper, so don't bother taking notes!" Smitten, Hermione tucked her notepad and pencil away, her face tomato red with embarrassment- that was exactly what Sam had said earlier. They watched as Castiel stared longingly- almost lovingly- at Sam's corpse, as if he was wishing for something, like a child wishing on a shooting star.

"Can I ask you something?" Remus asked. Castiel huffed, "You just did."

"Don't get smart with me," Remus snapped, "Answer me this. What did that man mean when he said Sam was not welcome in Heaven?"

"You mean Crowley?"

"Yes," Remus confirmed, "please clarify this for me." Cas glanced at Remus, then Harry, sighing.

"As you all know, I am an Angel of the Lord," Cas started, "meaning-" he turned around, "Hermione- put that away-" Hermione muttered an apology and stopped writing. He continued, "- meaning that I am a servant of the Lord God Almighty. I was sent to Earth to retrieve the Angel Tablet- a tablet that has powers even i don't understand. That's when I met the Winchesters."

"Meaning Samuel and Dean?" Albus joined in. Cas nodded, "yes, meaning Sam and Dean. The two of them are hunters- people who kill demons, vampires, leviathans and the like for a living. It is also done to protect the people of Earth from the war that's waging between Heaven and Hell. I began going on these hunting jobs with them because they were looking for the Demon Tablet, which would supposedly help close the gates of Hell, preventing monsters from running amok in your world."

"But our world is not like the Muggle world-" Remus sighed at Castiel's confused look, explaining, "Muggles are what we call the humans."

"Unfortunately for you, the battle has entered your work and is slowly taking over," Cas said after the explanation, "has anything strange been going on here at Hogwarts and the like?" when no one answered, he continued, "I thought so. But let me go on. Like I said, the Demon tablet would supposedly close the gates of Hell- of course, I would have to bring it to heaven. And the only way I'd be able to do so was if Sam died and was bought back." Albus scratched his beard thoughtfully- angels were very interesting creatures after all. He stuck his finger in his ear, twisting, then flicked earwax off his skin.

"What do you mean- he would have to be bought back to life?" Remus asked. Cas nodded.

"Yes. So that's what we did. According to the books the prophet Chuck was writing, Dean had to kill his brother in order for this to work. Afterwards, I bought Sam to Heaven with me- but with the Angel Tablet, not the Demon tablet."

"And what happened while you were in heaven?" Remus asked skeptically.

"God asked Sam to do a task that only he was able to do," Cas said, "he asked Sam to put his faith in the people of Earth. And Sam said he was unable to do so. When God asked him why, Sam replied saying that they were sinners, they were not perfect like God was, so he was unable to fulfill God's wish. For that, God cast Sam into Hell- in fact, he had Naomi and Michael do it for him." Hermione gasped.

"What rubbish!" she cried, "how could you spin such lies?!" Cas glared at her, his blue eyes icy and cold.

"I am not lying, Hermione Granger," he said, "if you think I am, why don't you try going to Heaven and asking God about it yourself?" She stepped back, furrowing her brow. Castiel cleared his throat and went on, "Dean and I then had to go into Hell and rescue him- for the second time. The first time was when he was kidnapped on a mission, kept there for a week or so. After we rescued him, he died- he was a sinner reborn. And I bought him back because I cared, he was my friend." He sighed, shaking his head, muttering, "Naomi said I always had too much heart, after all."

"And Dean?" Remus said.

"Dean is one hundred percent human," Cas stated, "during our time together, counting what just happened, Sam died a total of three times. I can no longer bring them back."

"But why?"

"Sam is a fallen angel," Cas gulped, "he refused God's order. Even if I wanted to, i can never bring him back again. And Dean? I revived him when I was never supposed to. All those times, he's supposed to have died, butI bought him back."

"And how many times did Dean die?" Remus asked, his voice barry a whisper, anticipating the answer.

"He died….." Cas sighed, "….one hundred and three times. And one hundred and two times, I bought him back to life. Because I broke the law, I am no longer able to bring Dean back, since humans were not made in God's eye to be immortal." Remus' breath caught in his throat. Shaking his head, he chuckled, "You…you have to be kidding…."

"What do you mean?"

"There is no way a Muggle- human being, sorry- could die so many times and be bought back with the help of just one person," Remus explained, "only one person was able to come back, with the help of multiple people and he wasn't ever truly dead, he was only near death." Castiel cocked an eyebrow at him- who was this person he claimed was so like God? Who was able to survive like that?

"And who might this person be?" Castiel asked. Remus went pale, his eyes wide. No one ever asked such a question- it was despicable, really, not to know who _he_ was. Then he realized Castiel did not know much about the wizarding world, so he sighed, releasing a breath he realized he and been holding in.

"He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named," Remus answered, his voice shaky.

"You mean Voldemort?" Dumbledore asked.

"Don't say it!" Remus snapped, stamping his feet.

"I don't see why we shouldn't," Dumbledore shrugged, "he has a name so we may as well use it. right Harry?" Dumbledore winked at the boy, who nodded silently.

"Yeah…yeah," Harry mumbled, his face slightly red.

"Who is this man that believes himself to be so powerful?" Cas asked under his breath, staring at his feet. Surely no one could be as powerful as the one he served.

"Trust me, you don't want to meet him," Remus warned as Cas glanced at Sam's body.

"Trust me," Cas said, "he doesn't want to meet me." With one last look at Sam, he unfurled his wings. Harry squinted- they didn't look like the obsidian black color they were before. _They look almost…..gray_, Harry thought as Castiel absentmindedly flapped his wings a few times. A gust of wind blew in the others faces as he walked to the window, reaching out with a fist. Glass flew everywhere, catching the light as it shattered.

"Make sure he gets a proper burial," Cas said as he stood up on the window sill, gripping the frame for support. There was a collective gasp as he jumped, a loud woosh heard in the air.

"Is the strain of losing the ones he cares most about so quickly getting to him?" Harry asked aloud.

"What do you mean, boy?" Albus asked, the bells in his beard jingling.

"Never mind," he muttered, biting his lip.


	9. Chapter 9

A week later, Ron, Harry and Hermione were in the Gryffindor Common Room, warming themselves by the fire. Snow swirled throughout the air outside and other students were busy planning their holiday vacations- and Malfoy made sure everyone knew what he was planning to do.

"I'm having Mummy and Daddy take me to St. Petersburg, Russia to see the annual Quidditch Tournament!" he had announced loudly in the great Hall earlier that day.

"Show off," Ron had muttered, his ears turning pink- Malfoy was grinning smugly at him when he said this, rubbing it in his face that he was able to afford travel. Now, a few hours later, Ron was still stewing over the fact that Malfoy was a little prick, bragging about his wealth and social status.

"He's just trying to annoy you, Ron," Hermione tried consoling him.

"Yeah right," he mumbled, "he just wants it to be known that he's rich and that everyone else stinks." The glow of the fire radiated on his face, making it a mix of yellows and oranges as it flickered.

"He's probably jealous of the fact that you don't get everything handed to you because you say you want it," Hermione suggested. Ron burst with laughter.

"Are you kidding?!" he scoffed.

"What?" Hermione asked, "it's probably true- he's probably getting bored of living rich and is jealous of your lifestyle. Right, Harry?" She looked to Harry for support- he was Ron's best friend after all, so he should at least try to be helping cheer him up.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess," Harry said in a rush, picking up the fire poker and pushing the logs around in the hearth. He felt the heat of the fire burn his skin. It was so hot it would probably melt his glasses if he sat closer.

"What are you thinking about?" Hermione sighed. Harry shrugged.

"Just….stuff," Harry said after a pause.

"Thinking about stuff is dangerous, you know," Ron said, "it could lead to all sorts of things. And those things are usually not good-"

"Oh, shut up," Hermione cut him off, then said to Harry, "I know that far away look you have on. You're thinking about something. Spit it out- what is it?" Harry let out a breath, his chest feeling tight. Running a hand through his hair, he said, "Well, it's about that angel guy-"

"Castiel?" Hermione interjected.

"Yeah," Harry confirmed as Ron rolled his eyes, "he seemed a bit- off, I guess."

"What do you mean by 'off'?" Hermione asked as she rubbed her hands together. Her skin was starting to feel chaffed from being near the fire for a while.

"Are we talking about this guy again?" Ron asked annoyed, jabbing his thumb in the direction of his and Harry's room, "Dumbledore ordered them to put Sam's body in here and it's starting to smell. And sleeping on the couch is not comfortable-"

"Oh stop your whining!" Hermione swatted him, "it's only temporary. They're burying the body this afternoon." She began biting her nails- she could smell it now that Ron had mentioned it. The stench was wafting toward them, smelling of must and foul smelling cologne. She waved a hand in front of her face, scrunching her nose.

"Anyway, about Castiel," Harry continued, "I noticed his wings were not the same color as when we first saw him." Ron rested his chin on his hand.

"Weren't they black or something?' he asked, glancing at Hermione, sighing. The way the fire light made her skin glow a soft amber….. it was beautiful- no, gorgeous. _Maybe I should ask her to the Yule Ball next week,_ he thought.

"Yeah, but when we saw him in the dungeon, they were a bit bleak looking, almost gray in color," harry explained.

"Well, he was upset at the loss of his friend-" Hermione said, but harry cut her off.

"Yeah, but he was also upset when Dean died," Harry pointed out, "remember? He disappeared in that weird flash of light at the funeral."

"Are they gonna be buried next to each other?" Hermione asked.

"Who's gonna be buried next to each other?" came Luna's voice drifting from the doorway. She skipped over and plopped herself down. Her earrings swung from her ears as she sat, swaying slightly once she settled.

"Hi Luna," Ron said, giving her a small wave. She ignored it, looking at Harry expectantly, waiting for an answer.

"We think Sam would have to be buried next to Dean at the funeral," Harry said.

"Well, it's only fair," Luna shrugged, gazing into the fire, "they are brothers after all."

"Are you going to the funeral?" Hermione asked, "I think Ginny said she was." Ron groaned.

"Please, don't mention that," he said, "she gave him a love note on the first week he was here. And she was too nervous to give it to him herself so she had me do it." Harry's face reddened.

"When was this?" he asked Ron.

"Are you daft? I just said it was the first week he was here," Ron repeated, "and why do you even care?" Harry shrugged, looking at Sam's body, which was rotting in his bed.

"I don't know," he muttered. It seemed he was still competing with Sam for Ginny's affection. Not only was he older, he was now dead- and Ginny was probably still pining over him. _She'll probably be in hysterics at the funeral_, he thought.

"What's that smell?" Luna asked, crinkling her nose.

"Dumbledore decided to put the body in here, so it's been rotting in our room," Ron explained. Luna nodded, giving a slightly disgusted smile. She pushed herself off the floor, her shoes clicking on the floor with each step, "Well, I need to go. See you later." Humming a small tune, she skipped out of the Common Room.

"She's gone," Hermione said as she watched Luna disappear around the corner, "now continue about Castiel."

"Well, do you think the stress of losing his friends so quickly is finally getting to him?" Harry finally asked- the same thing he asked in the dungeon.

"I guess," Ron piped up, "I mean, he was still probably grieving over Dean, and he didn't die too long ago himself." Ron shuddered as he remembered the first time seeing them- dean staining the sheets red with his blood, Sam cowering on the other bed in fright of seeing Scabbers- _or surprise_, he thought, either one.

"Well, he had just gotten back from Heaven," Hermione said, "after taking the Angel Tablet or whatever with him. So he was probably not there when Dean died. He found out later and it probably came as a shock to him."

"If that's so, then imagine what seeing Sam was like for me," said a raspy voice behind them. They jumped, whirling their heads around. Castiel stood over them, his wings unfurled. The fire illuminated his body, making him look somewhat menacing. He pointed behind him to Sam's body, "why haven't they buried him yet like I told them to?"

"They're getting the coffin ready," Hermione answered, her voice cracking as she gulped.

"Bull shit," he muttered, "they've had him lying there for a week, huh?"

"How did you know?" Ron asked, amazed that he got the time span correct. Cas gave him a look as if to say, "Are you that stupid?"

"I'm a celestial being," he said, "I'm able to tell these things at a glance." He gave his wings a shake, feathers fluttering to the ground. Harry pointed to one that was stained a deep red, almost black and asked, "Are you bleeding?" Castiel's eyes widened and he quickly folded his wings, trying to hide them from view.

"I'm fine," he said averting his gaze. There was a small plop as Harry saw blood drip onto the floor.

"You're lying!" Harry exclaimed, getting up, "you need to go the infirmary!" Hermione and Ron watched as Harry took Castiel's arm and tried dragging him out of the room to the infirmary. Cas jerked his arm away, backing up a few steps.

"I don't need to go anywhere," he said, "I need to make sure Sam gets buried properly." Harry clenched his fists, tensing his muscles. Hermione and Ron stood, standing beside Harry, unsure of what to do.

"You need to go the infirmary," Harry repeated firmly, his teeth clenched. Hermione widened her eyes as she noticed the blood- Ron's face going pale.

"Is that….?" he trembled.

"Yep," Hermione said, "you need help, Castiel. Your…wing, looks injured."

"I am an Angel of the Lord," Castiel said, "I-" Hemione stomped her feet, interrupting him.

"Cut it out with that crap!" she shouted at him, "you may be an Angel, but you're an injured Angel. And if you're injured, you need help!"

"Y-yeah….!" Ron stammered, trying to back her up, "so…don't be stubborn?" He seemed unsure of himself, ending his statement with a question like demeanor. Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron's failed attempt.

"You're attempts to persuade me are noted," Cas said, pushing past them, "but I don't need your help. I have to make sure Sam gets a proper burial."

"You idiot!" Hermione shouted at his back, "you should at least try to be concerned that you're injured!" Cas peered at them from over his shoulder.

"And why should I do that?" he asked.

"Because you don't want to die," Hemione stated, walking up to him and taking his hand. Her hand was dwarfed when she laced her fingers with his, dragging him out the door and towards the infirmary, snapping at Harry and Ron to follow.

"And how would you know I don't want to die, huh?" Cas grunted, jerking his hand away. He could still feel her warmth, a phantom taking her place, keeping him secure. He didn't want to admit that she was correct- death was something he feared. It had happened to everyone he knew- Meg, Kevin, Bobby, and now the two people he cared most about.

"Because I can see it in your eyes," she answered. Ron and Harry exchanged glances- was Hermione getting mushy, all of a sudden? She had never shown affection like this except to her cat, Crookshanks, who had tried eating Scabbers just last week.

"What's going on?" Ron whispered to Harry as they followed Hermione and Castiel into the infirmary. Harry glanced behind them- Cas left a trail of blood where they had walked, then to Ron he shrugged, "I don't know. Probably a mother instinct?"

"Girls get those?" Ron asked, "I thought it was only adults." Harry shrugged again.

"I guess girls have it too," he said as Hermione went up to the nurse and explained the situation. Castiel stood by the window, gazing around at the white walls. Small cots lay in rows on either side of the room, a pale green curtain next to each one. Blood so red it looked black dripped in a puddle at his feet. Madame Pomfrey shook her head at him, "I'm sorry. I am a nurse, but i don't think i'm able to help you dear."

"Why don't you just use that Skele-Gro stuff?" Harry asked when Hermione gave them a pleading look to help, "Like when Lockhart removed the bones in my arm that one year?"

"I would, but that's for human bones," Madame Pomfrey said, "and Miss Granger has informed me that Castiel is not of human lineage. Therefore I am unsure if Skele-Gro will heal his bones."

"But why can't we try it?" Hermione pleaded.

"What is this Skele-Gro you speak of?" Castiel asked. Madame Pomfrey waved his question away as if a fly were buzzing around her head.

"It's nasty stuff, dear," she said, "you wouldn't like it." He nodded, content with this answer- _wow, he is easy to entertain- if that's the right word_, Harry thought, trying to remember the descriptive word for Castiel's type of personality- which was borderline child-like, if you asked him.

"But Madame Pomfrey-" Hermione whined.

"But nothing, Miss Granger," Madame Pomfrey retaliated, "If you really want to help him, why don't you ask someone who knows about….celestial beings, if that's what he is?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Hermione said, "Thank you for your time." She walked past the boys with her head hung.

"You know, Hermione, for a smart person, you sure can be dumb," Ron said, grabbing her by the shoulders and steering her towards the window, pointing to Hagrid's hut. Buckbeak was tied to a post outside, his head buried in a food trough.

"Buckbeak?" Hermione asked, confused.

"No! Hagrid!" Ron finally said.

"Who's Hagrid?" Castiel asked, eyeing Buckbeak. _What a strange creature_, he thought, watching it eat raw meat from it's trough.

"How could I have been so stupid!" Hermione scolded herself, "of course Hagrid could help- he's worked with animals. If he could heal a broken wing on Buckbeak, he could probably heal Castiel's wing too, right?"

"Uh, duh?" Ron said. Buckbeak had been in a hunting accident- a centaur had shot his wing. It took Hagrid at least a week to heal it, and even then the skin under his feathers looked wounded.

"Well? Let's go!" Hermione shooed them towards the door. Madame pomfret watched them go, muttering that the blood Castiel dripped in his wake would take forever for Filch to clean off the floor.


	10. Chapter 10

Hagrid hummed to himself as he rubbed Fang's head- the old dog loved being scratched behind the ears, and once you started, Fang made sure you wouldn't stop. Hagrid's arm was already tired, feeling as if it was going to fall off at any moment. He could hear Buckbeak chomping away outside when there was a sudden banging on the door. Fang jumped up and trotted to the door, barking like mad.

"Down, boy!" Hagrid commanded. Fang ignored him, barking relentlessly until Hagrid pulled his collar, pushing him backwards, "Shut up, you mangy mutt!" Sighing, he placed his hand on the doorknob and twisted it, pulling the door open.

"Hagrid we have something for you to do," Hermione said as she, Harry and Ron barreled in, plopping things everywhere as if they walked into their own houses and not the grounds keepers hut.

"Don't just come barging in here!" Hagrid protested, "I have things to do you know!" Ron rolled his eyes.

"I don't think sitting by the fire with Fang is very productive, Hagrid," Ron said, "now listen to what Hermione says. It's important." Hagrid raised an eyebrow. Fang whined, circling around his owner nervously.

"What could be so important?" Hagrid asked, "Lookit Fang, he's trembling all over!" Reaching down, he went to pet the dog but the animal trotted way and sat itself at the door, pawing the wood. "Is it outside?"

"Well, I don't really know if you'd call this problem an it," Harry explained, twiddling his thumbs. He exchanged a nervous glance with Ron as Hermione went over and grabbed the door, pulling it open. Fang jumped back, bumping into Hagrid's legs as the man walked in. Blood trailed behind him, leaving small dots in a path.

"What the…..?" Hagrid asked with astonishment. Cas flapped his wings, sending feathers flying everywhere. The gust of wind that followed blew through the one room house, knocking a set of teacups off the table. They shattered into perfect halves as they connected with the wooden floorboards. Fang bared his teeth, sharp canines curling over his lower lip as he growled at the angel.

"Hello," Castiel greeted him, eyeing the dog nervously- _is it going to bite me?_ he thought as Hagrid ushered his to sit at the table, the chair scratching the floor as he pulled it out for him, "Let me get a look at this! Crikey, what happened?"

"Do I need to tell you?" Cas asked as Hagrid gently peeled off his coat, dumping it on the floor. The man's white shirt was bloody as well, the back completely soaked in red.

"Yes, I believe you do or I won't be able to help you," Hagrid said and Cas sighed.

"I was uh, just flying around, trying to clear my mind," he coughed, "and I was suddenly attacked…." His hand came away with dots of red, and he put his hand under his leg, trying to hide it from view. With the other he wiped away blood that had dribbled on his skin. Hermione looked at him with suspicion.

"Attacked?" Hagrid asked, "by what?" Carefull, he took a handful of cloth in his chubby fingers, "I'm going to have to take your shirt off to see the wound better. Is that okay with you?" Cas nodded, sighing.

"Yes, that's fine with me," he said absentmindedly. Hagrid gripped the cloth and started to pull, making Castiel's body jerk forward. A loud rip sounded in the air.

"So what was it you were attacked by?" Hermione related the question when Cas failed to answer him.

"It was…. I guess it would be called a demon, where I'm from, but then again, there are no demons in heaven," Castiel chuckled softly to himself. The thing was definitely demon like, with black trail behind it. At the time, everything turned dark as it approached him, the sun blotted out completely.

"Do you mean a Dementor?" Hermione asked, her eyes widening. What was a dementor doing at Hogwarts?

"I guess, if that's what the thing is called here," Castiel shrugged, then winced as searing pain shot down his arm. He felt blood slide snail-like down his skin, the hair on his arms standing on end, goosebumps decorating his arm.

"Sorry," Hagrid apologized as he tenderly ran a finger along the wing, at the point where the feathers met his shoulder blade. His fingers came away red, blood stained under his fingernails which were already brown with food and dirt.

"Hagrid, if you touch him, you might infect the wound," Harry said, grabbing his hand and inspecting the man's dirty nails.

"You know we giants don't like bathing!" Hagrid defended, jerking his hand away.

"You're only half giant, Hagrid," Harry reminded him- Hagrid often said he was fully giant, when everyone knew he was only half. His mother was giant, his father human.

"Okay, okay," Hagrid said, "why don't you get a look at it then? Completely ghastly, if you ask me." Harry peered at the wing, then recoiled, his nose scrunched up in disgust. Blood had already crusted and dried, crumbling brown mixed with fresh crimson.

"Yeesh, that looks painful," Ron commented, peering at it over Harry's shoulder. Reaching out, her grabbed Castiel's wing and moved it abruptly to the side to see better. Castiel cried out with pain, jumping out of his chair, knocking it over in the process.

"What are you trying to do? Make it worse?" he gasped. Feathers fluttered to the floor, silently making a pile at his feet, like cherry blossoms falling from trees in the spring.

"No, I just wanted to get a better look," Ron said. There was a sudden banging as Hagrid began rifling through his cabinets, knocking vials and bottles aside, some falling to the floor. Fang barked as one shattered, glass flying everywhere, green liquid pouring from it.

"We'll have to show it to Snape," Hagrid said, "I'm afraid nothing I have here will help with it." He shrugged with defeat, ushering them towards the door.

"But why Snape?" Harry protested- he and Snape were always on bad terms, apparently because his father made fun of him throughout their years as school mates when they were younger.

"Because he has all the potions!" Hagrid exclaimed, "and he can make one that will heal your friend here! So get moving, you lazy lugs!" Hagrid laughed as they all groaned, Castiel asking, "Who's….Snape?" He rolled his tongue as he said the name, sounding foreign coming from his mouth.

"The Potions Master," Hagrid said, patting him on the back quite roughly that it pushed him forward. Castiel cringed and Hagrid shoved his hand in his pocket saying repeatedly, "Sorry, matey, forgot you were injured for a second…."

As soon as they got to the dungeon stairs, Hagrid, harry, Ron and Hermione trampled down them like a stampede, Cas standing warily at the top. Water dripped from the ceiling, echoing when it hit the floor.

"Well? You coming?" Harry asked over his shoulder. Cas mumbled something to himself- _probably trying to get the courage to come down_, Harry thought, _after all, Sam died down here. I don't think he'd want to come down here so readily after that. _There was a pained look in the angels eyes as he sighed, finally saying, "I'll just teleport, meet you there, okay?" Harry nodded, turning around to join the others at the bottom of the stairs. A flash of light, then he knew Castiel was gone, on his way to meet Snape. he jumped the last step, pain shooting up his leg as he landed hard, his feet splashing in a puddle of water.

"Where'd he go?" Hagrid pointed to top of the stairs.

"He's going to meet us there," Harry said. Sure enough there was a flash from under the door, and they heard a shout of surprise, something crack.

"We should probably go in," Hermione suggested, and she pushed open the heavy oak door, the wood creaking on its hinges.


	11. Chapter 11

"I'm sorry for startling you, sir," Castiel said, picking up the pieces of glass off the floor. Snape stared at the angel, his mouth agape- how did he get in here?! There was a flash of bright light and then suddenly this man was standing in the middle of the room, a six foot long pair of wings sprouting from his back.

"I don't know who you are but you must go," Snape quipped as the door creaked open. In walked the Troublesome Trio- Harry, Ron and Hermione- and following them was that big oaf, Hagrid. He glanced at the group, then back at the man, whose fingers were now cut up from handling the glass.

"I don't know what's going on, but I will make sure you three get a detention for this, Potter," Snape nearly spit out his name, he despised him so much.

"Listen here, Harry did nothing you idjit!" Hagrid said, waving away Snape's threat as if it were a fly buzzing annoyingly in his ear, "anyway, we wanted you to help with something." Snape cocked an eyebrow- since when did they ever need my help? he thought suspiciously, eyeing the strange man with wings. Pointing to him, he asked, "What in God's name is this…. _creature_?" Castiel snapped his he'd in Snape's direction.

"How dare you use His name in vain!" Castiel said defensively, "do you not have any idea what I am?" Snape scanned him from top to bottom, looking as if he had sucked on a lemon- of course, he always looked like that, his face nearly expressionless at all times.

"No need to get defensive, Castiel," Hermione warned.

"No I do not have an idea of what you are, but quite frankly, I don't think I want to," Snape snickered, holding out his palm, "now please give me those so i may dispose of them." Castiel flicked the glass into his hand, saying, "for your information, I am an Angel of the Lord. Keep that in mind." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Here we go again," Ron muttered to himself, slapping his hand to his forehead.

"What do you mean by that, pray tell?" Snape asked as he brushed the shards into a trash bin, a small tinkling sounding when the glass hit the bottom of the bin.

"it means that I am a servant of the Lord," Castiel said, "it means I have direct access to him. I am a Messenger of God, if you want to call it that." Snape made a sort of gurgle that Castiel could only perceive as a chuckle, "You think I'm joking?!"

"Please leave me to myself," Snape waved him away, "I have business to attend to here and I prefer to be alone." _Alone….?_ Cas thought,_ why? _

"Professor!" Hagrid barked, "I know you have work to do but I remember asking you to help me with something!" Snape rolled his eyes.

"As I recall, you did not ask me," he said, "you told me you wanted me to help with something. And my answer is no so please go away." Castiel stared at Snape- who would want to be alone? Looking around, he noticed the dungeon was very gloomy- there were no windows, so it was very dimly lit by candles that rested on lines of desks. The desks had large black cauldrons perched atop them, empty and ready to be of use. Mumbling something, Hagrid ushered Hermione, Ron and Harry out of the dungeon, forgetting that Castiel was in there, slamming the door shut behind him. Snape sighed heavily, rubbing his hands against his simple back robes nervously. Castiel flapped his wings, wincing as pain shot up the bone. The blood from his wound had dried, crusting brown on his feathers, which were starting to look a bit white at the tips. Snape jumped when he saw the angel still standing there.

"What do you want?" he sneered. Castiek shrugged.

"Why do you want to be alone?' he asked, feathers falling from his wings and floating gently to the floor. Snape shook his head.

"Associating with those ragamuffins is a waste of my time," Snape said, "I have a job to do, so if you don't mind-"

"I'm not going to leave, sir," Castiel said. He grimaced at the sight of Snape's greasy-looking hair framing his sallow face- _does he ever wash it?_ Cas thought as he watched Snape peer into a cauldron sitting on a nearby desk, sniff and then recoil on disgust, waving a hand in front of his hooked nose.

"Well, that would be insubordination now wouldn't it?" Snape asked with a leery smile. He found Castiel to be quite annoying already. Cas shrugged, "you didn't answer my first question, so I'll say it again- why do you want to be alone?" Snape swallowed, his adams apple bobbing.

"Why do you want to know?" Snape shot back, his black robes sweeping the dusty floor.

"Because you look like someone who needs it to be known," Cas said gently.

"Whatever gives you that preposterous idea?" Snape scoffed.

"You can't hide things from me," Castiel said, "I am an Angel of the Lord, after all." Snape rolled his eyes. _This man…._ he thought, thinking of what to describe him as. _Arrogant? No, that seems- _

"To nice?" Castiel asked. Snape gasped. _DId he just-_

"Read your mind?' Cas had a coy little smile on his face as he nodded, "yes, as a matter of fact, I did. It's one of my specialties." Snape's eyes bugged in their sockets.

"B-b-but-" Snape stammered.

"That isn't possible?" Cas asked, shrugging, "well news flash pal- it is possible. And can you maybe heal my wing? It hurts to move it." Snape silently nodded.

"S-sure," he muttered, moving swiftly across the room and gently taking hold of his wing, examining it closely. Blood had crusted on the wound, crumbling away on his skin as he ran his fingers lightly over the area. Cas shivered as Snape touched a particularly tender spot, the professor's fingers coming away slightly sticky crimson.

"What happened here?" he asked.

"I went out to fly for a while," Cas said, "when I was suddenly attacked by those- what did the kid call them, Demen-something?"

"Dementor," Snape corrected, watching feathers fall silently from the wing, "Good security, aren't they?"

"Pain in the ass if you ask me," Cas said, "and completely unholy. They need to be sprayed with holy water or something because they suck the life out of everything….." Cas sighed, remembering how it felt- cold, dreary, depressing.

"It's their job," Snape said, his voice slick, "lucky for you you managed to stay alive without the use of a wand." His footsteps echoed on the floor as he walked over to a cabinet, pulling i open and rifling through it. Small clinks sounded from inside it until he produced a glass vial. A cork was shoved into the opening and it contained a green liquid. Snape thrust it into Cas's hand and ordered, "Drink it." Castiel examined the liquid before grabbing the cork, digging at it with his fingers until a small pop tossed it back, nearly gagging at the taste.

"Thank you," he said, gripping the vial in his fist, "now will you answer my question?" Snape stopped, his breath caught in his throat- was he still on about that?

"Yes, I am," Cas answered his thought, "and I'm not leaving until I get an answer."

"There is nothing to tell," Snape gestured toward the classroom, "this is my life, there is no reason for more." Castiel glared at him as if in a stare-down contest. Snape's expression was cold, scornful.

"Your eyes betray you, my friend-"

"You and I are not friends," Snape crossed his arms.

"- so don't try denying anything. I can tell. You're sad." Snape shook his head, chuckling softly to himself.

"I am not," he protested, the corners of his lips lifting into a smile.

"You are- and it has something to do with that Potter boy, doesn't it?" Castiel cocked an eyebrow as Snape let out a small squeak.

"How did you-"

"How did I know? I can tell when someone is grieving. I am doing the same thing for myself. Grieving is not something an Angel of the Lord should be doing, but unfortunately, I am. And I will share your grief. If it doesn't have anything to do with the Potter boy, then maybe someone related to him….?" Snape hesitantly backed up, bumping into the desk. The cauldron that sat atop it rocked before settling again, the rings clanking on the sides of the pot.

"There is no way you could know-"

"But I do, Severus," Castiel tapped his temple.

"I never told you my name!" Snape exclaimed.

"Up there," Castiel pointed to the ceiling, "we have information on everyone in the world. even you wizards. We have your birthdate, hobbies, likes and dislikes, associations, occupation, where you live…." Snape shook his head.

"No…." he trailed off. Castiel nodded, licking his lips.

"…..even your date of death," he added, his voice gruff. Snape gasped, letting out what seemed like a choke, maybe cough. It was hard for the angel to decipher- but he knew Snape was definitely surprised, wiping spit from he corners of his mouth.

"Please, don't kill me," Snape said, raising a hand in front of him as if defending himself.

"I'm not going to kill you," Cas said, "for one thing, it isn't your time. Plus, it's not my job to do so. My job is to make sure you get your soul there safely, among other things." Snape let his breath escape, his chest un-tightening.

"Thank you," Snape said, "would you like my answer to your question?"

"So you're finally willing to talk?" A smile lilted on his face as he pulled out a chair, one for him and the other for Snape. Snape nodded, collapsing into it.

"When I was going to this school as a student, I was bullied terribly- by the boy's father," Snape started.

"James Potter, correct?" Cas asked. Snape nodded, snapping, "I'm giving you an answer, you may as well shut up! Anyway- yes, James Potter. The only thing he and I had in common was an affection for Lily Evans."

"And?"

"And Lily was the only person to ever be nice to me, lend me a hand when I was down," Snape explained, "and when she married James I was devastated. Then the night Voldemort killed her…." Snape shook his head, a single tear trickling down his face.

"It was like that when Dean and Sam died," Cas consoled him, "for me. And it still upsets me to know that they won't be coming back." Snape shook his head, his shoulders shaing.

"But that's different," Snape let out a sob, "I've known Lily since we were children and she was ripped away from me…."

"She's probably smiling down on you from Heaven," Cas said, rubbing the man's back, "she'll be so proud to know that you've made it this far." Snape shook his head, "No, she probably regrets talking to me, she probably thinks I don't deserve her friendship…."

"Well, that's where you're wrong," Cas said, "because I've spoken to Lily myself." Snape lifted his head, wiping away tears, "Y-you have?" Cas nodded.

"When she first came into heaven, I spoke with her. She wanted you to know that she holds you dear, even in death," Cas said- of course, none of it was true. Castiel knew that his job was to be a messenger, not a friend. But he felt Snape needed the lie, so he continued, "and when Sam and Dean died? Do you remember how I disappeared in that flash of light?" Snape nodded, remembering that he dreaded going to a funeral for people he never met nor cared for.

"Another specialty of yours, I assume?' Snape laughed.

"Yeah," Cas ran a hand through his hair, "anyway, when Sam and Dean died, it wasn't the first time."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is, I have bought them back before," Castiel answered. Snape suddenly jumped up, knocking the chair over in the process.

"No one has the power to bring back the dead! Not even Voldemort can do it, even if he was in possession of the Elder Wand!" Snape pointed an accusing finger at the angel. Castiel ws confused- he didn't know what the elder Wand was, heck, he didn't even know how to use a regular one, but then again he didn't have to.

"I guess you don't understand," Castiel said.

"No, i understand completely!" Snape exclaimed, "because if you're able to bring back those two hooligans-" Now it was Cas who stood in a hurry, his chair rocking on its legs.

"Sam and Dean are not hooligans!" he shouted, but Snape ignored him.

"-than you can bring back Lily!" A light glinted in his eyes as he said this, a hopeful look on his face. Cas shook his head.

"It doesn't work like that, Severus," Cas said as he watched Snape pace for a while. He stopped, glancing up.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I broke the law in order to do so," Cas explained, "as a servant of the Lord, it is against my duties to bring people- especially humans- back from the dead."

"But I thought that Sam was half demon or something-"

"He was, and angels and demons don't get along, trust me," Cas interrupted him, "so my friendship with Sam was basically forbidden. And Dean? I was told never to get close to a human, but look at what happened." Snape pondered his words, resting his chin on his fist.

"You said you bought them back before?" Snape asked after a long silence. Castiel nodded, sighing. Snape clicked his tongue, asking, "how many times with Sam?"

"Three times," Castiel said.

"And Dean?" Snape cocked an eyebrow, waiting expectantly.

"One hundred and three," Castiel answered, bowing his head. Snape's eyes widened- bringing a human back one hundred and three times?! That was impossible! Snape suddenly began to get the feeling that he and Castiel were being watched somehow- he cringed, glancing at the cauldrons that sat on the desks, waiting to be of use. Getting up, he stalked over to the door pulling it open.

"This was a good chat, but i'm afraid you have to leave," Snape demanded, his demeanor becoming harsh.

"Uh-oh, oh," Cas said to himself, noticing the sudden change, "alright, well, I guess I'll see you around?" Snape turned away from him, hugging himself.

"Whatever," he sneered, walking to the other side of the room, his back turned so he didn't see the angel leaving, but heard the slam of the door being closed. After a few minutes, he slid to the floor, fresh tears falling down his face.

"You're right," Snape said to the empty room, "I don't want to be alone. But I have to. Without Lily, I don't have anything. She was…" He didn't finish, instead breaking down in tears, his shoulders wracked with sobs and cries of anguish.

Lily Evans was Severus Snape's only friend. she was the light of his life, and when she died, that light went out, like a small blip on the map that vanished. Without lily, he lived in the darkness. Complete and utter darkness. And if lily was not there with him, he may as well continue to live in that darkness, to know nothing else but the dark. For his soul was dark, dark with grief and pain….. and longing.


	12. Chapter 12

Hermione watched with disgust as Ron let sauce dribble all over his chin. Mrs. Weasly was in the kitchen banging around pots and pans while the twins were on a trip with their dad to visit Charlie in Romania. Meanwhile, she and Harry were stuck in the Weasly house, with Ginny and their moher for company. Of course. the only thing Ginny could talk about was Sam Winchester.

"His hair was gorgeous!" she beamed as she plopped herself on the couch next to Hermione, "don't you think so, Hermione?" Hermione shrugged.

"I guess," she answered. Ginny squealed excitedy, her face tomato red.

"And those cheekbones!" she exclaimed, "they could be considered lethal weapons of mass destruction in other countries!" Ron spit to a mouthful of food, spaghetti strands and chunks of tomato sauce flying everywhere.

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, flicking tomato off her fingers, "that was absolutely disgusting!"

"The way Ginny is talking about him is absolutely disgusting!" Ron cried, "it's always Sam this and Sam that! Well guess what Ginny? He's-" Hermione cut him off, giving him a stern glare. No one had told ginny about the funeral- in fact, Hagrid helped in keeping her occupied while his body was buried. Meanwhile they had told her Sam was gong on a trip and was coming back later that year.

"He's what?" Ginny said grinning as wide as a Chesire Cat. Harry stared at the floor, jealousy radiating from him. He still had to compete with a man who was dead for Ginny's affection.

"Nothing," Hermione said quickly, then punched Ron's arm.

"Ow!" he shouted, cradling his arm where she hit him, "that hurt!"

"Good," Hermione said, "it was supposed to." Ginny glanced at the others, searching their faces for clues.

"Tell me! What happened to Sam?" she asked, her brow beginning to crease with worry. Hermione bit her lip while pacing back and forth for a few minutes before answering, "Now, Ginny, please don't get upset-"

"This was for your own good-" Ron interjected.

"Yeah, i mean, it's not like you two were friends or anything-" Harry nervously added. Ron groaned with agony before blurting out, "He's dead!" There was a collective gasp from Hermione, Harry and Ginny as Ron gasped himself, slapping a hand over his mouth.

"What are you saying? He's on a trip- you told me yourself!" Ginny exclaimed. Harry tugged at the collar of his shirt.

"Well," Ron said, "we lied. He died trying to protect us from that awful bloke- Crowley was his name, Harry?" Harry nodded in agreement as Ron continued, "we didn't want you to get upset so we didn't tell you."

"Why would you not tell me?!" Ginny screeched, throwing a pillow at Ron's head. It landed softly, sliding a few feet across the wooden floor.

"No fighting!" Mrs. Weasly called from the kitchen. Tears began to fall down Ginny's face, her chin and lower lip quivering.

"He can't be dead…." she said more to herself than to them, as if she was trying to convince herself it wasn't true, "he can't be dead….."

"Well, unfortunately he is, so I can't help you there," Ron said with a sigh, which earned him another punch from Hermione, "Ow!"

"…..You said he was coming back….." she blubbered, a sob escaping her throat. Getting up, she cried as she shuffled to the stairs, her feet stomping on the rickety wood. Once she reached the top, she suddenly yelled, "I hate you!" There was a slam as Ginny shut herself in her room, and they sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Well… that escalated quickly," Ron finally said, and Hermione threw the pillow Ginny had thrown in his face at him for a second time. He dodged it and it landed on the ground again. Mrs, Weasly waddled into the living room, a frying pan in her grasp. she pointed it at Ron, "What did you do to your sister this time?" Ron raised his hands in defense. Mrs. Weasly owned about five frying pans- four of which she never used.

"It wasn't just me!" he said, pointing at Harry and Hermione, "it was them too!" Molly rolled her eyes- Ron sometimes assumed the three of them were in trouble when sometimes it was only him. Unfortunately, Ron was right- she had heard the entire thing from the kitchen, so he wasn't the only one to blame.

"Shame on you all- no dessert!" she scolded as they groaned, "and apologize to Ginny!" The three of them jumped off the couch and clomped up the stairs, making as loud a ruckus as possible. They stopped in front of Ginny's bedroom door. Lenin this ear against the wood, Harry could hear Ginny's sobs, muffled through the wood._ This could be my chance_, Harry thought, _I can finally win her affection now that she knows Sam is dead- _There was a loud cry followed by wracks of breath as Ginny erupted again.

"Ginny!" Ron called through the door.

"Go away!"

"Mum wanted us to apologize, so," Ron glanced at Hermione, who nodded to say "Go on," and he then muttered, "We're sorry." Hermione glared at him.

"What?" he asked, "I said it, so don't get on my case! Your turn!" Hermione rolled her eyes, knocking gently. The wood scratched her knuckles where she hit the door.

"Ginny please don't be upset- we didn't want to hut you is all," Hermione said sympathetically. There was a sniff and Ginny asked, "R-really?" Hermione nodded, even though she knew Ginny couldn't see.

"Really, we didn't," Hermione assured, "please don't be upset- I'm sure Sam wouldn't want that, huh? So please don't be mad?" They heard footsteps and a click, taking a step back as the knob turned and the door swung open, "Fine, but only because you're my only friends…." Her face was red and tears streaked her cheeks which were rosy. Harry sighed, glad he didn't have to do anything, but also made he didn't get a chance to say anything himself. They all jumped as a loud series of bangs sounded from downstairs.

"ACK!" came Mrs. Weasly's shout of surprise. There was a loud bang to follow.

"What was that?" Ron asked, biting his lip nervously- it didn't sound good to him at all.

"Oh, i don't know- maybe your mom shouting and dropping things everywhere?" Hermione answered sarcastically. Pushing each other, they ran down the stairs, Ron tripping over his own feet. He crashed to the ground and slid across the floor, his chin getting skinned along the way. A thin streak of blood lay in his wake as he hopped up, rubbing the cut. Dots of red decorated his sweater as he got up and followed them. They could hear Molly yelling.

"I don't know who you are but get out of my house!" she shouted, bringing the frying pan down with a swift thrust. Hermione gasped as she saw Castiel duck to the floor, log rolling away from her. He had his wings spread, feathers flying everywhere.

"I'm sorry, Miss-" he tried apologizing but dove for the ground again as Mrs. Weasly threw the frying pan. It cartwheeled through the air, banging the wall as the angel dodged it once more.

"THEIF!" Mrs. Weasly shouted, "Kids go hide- Ron call the police!"

"Mom!" Ron jumped over Castiel who had rolled to a stop at his feet and grabbed at the frying pan as Mrs. Weasly shouted, "GET AWAY FROM THE KIDS OR ELSE! RON DON'T TRY TO PREVENT ME FROM THROWING THIS FRYING PAN OR YOU ARE SO GROUNDED!" Ron let go immediately- he hated getting grounded and he already had so many detentions under his belt.

"Mrs. Weasly!" Hermione shouted, "Stop! He isn't going to hurt us!" Molly lowered the frying pan, confused.

"He's not?" she asked, "but he has wings!" She gestured to the feathers that littered the floor, accidentally hitting Ron with the frying pan. He collapsed with pain, crying with agony as he clutched his leg.

"Mom!" he cried with bewilderment.

"Mrs. Weasly- do you remember Dean and Sam?" Hermione asked.

"The tall boys?" she asked, "the one with the short brown hair and his brother who looked like a moose?" Hermione nodded, "Yes, them- do you remember them?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do," Molly said, "what about them? Doing well, I hope?"

"They're dead," Castiel said, "but when you met them they mentioned me." Molly shook her head.

"That's too bad, they were so sweet- they did mention a name- Castiel, I believe," she said, "Is that you then?" Cas nodded, saying, "You remember. That's good." Molly dropped the pan with horror, the iron skillet landing on Ron's injured leg.

"Mom!" he cried with surprise. His face was beet red as his mother knelt down and rubbed his head lovingly.

"I am so sorry, Ronny-kins!" she cooed pecking his face repeatedly. Hermione and Ginny laughed as Harry grinned smugly- Mrs. Weasly always embarrassed her children in public because she found it very funny to see people's reactions. Ron waved her away as Cas looked on, confused- was this how humans acted all the time? He remembered Dean and Sam never were like that, all lovey-dovey and kiss that is. They were always wrestling with each other and poking fun, trying to make the other laugh first. Cas laughed to himself, remembering the time Sam had played a trick on Dean, They were at a diner somewhere in Arizona, and Dean had a bottle of beer in front of him. When he got up to use the restroom, Sam pulled a bottle of glue from his pocket and coated the beer bottle with it, then put it back on the table, laughing to himself. When Dean had gotten back, he went to take a swig of his beer, but when he went to put it on the table, it wouldn't detach from his hand. They always took care of each other, even if it was strange to him- _Probably because they were humans who had a biological and emotional bond between them_, Cas thought, _something they shared- I had none of that_. Kneeling next to Mrs. Weasly, Cas took hold of Ron's leg, which was bent at an awkward angle. Molly looked at him curiously.

"Is it broken?" she asked.

"I think so," Cas said, squeezing lightly, then apologized when Ron whimpered with pain. Closing his eyes, Cas sighed, keeping his grasp on Ron's leg.

"What are you doing?" Molly asked bewildered, "don't break it even more if it's already broken!" There was a soft glow of yellow light from beneath Castiel's hand, and Ron's leg bent back, he could feel the bone shifting, the joints clicking into their proper place. Lifting his hand he said, "You should be able to walk now." Ron stared at him, his mouth gaping.

"What did you do to my son?!" Molly exclaimed as Ron slowly got up, testing his leg. He stood ramrod straight, then relaxed when he realized his leg was not going to fall out from under him, "Mom, I think he healed it! Blimey!" Castiel smiled as he watched Ron jog in place, happy that he was able to finally help someone instead of bringing disaster everywhere he went.

"Thanks!" Ron said to Cas, a big grin on his face, then turning to his mother he asked, "what's for lunch?"

"Get touched by an angel and all you can think of is lunch," Molly muttered with a coy smile, "The answer is food, so go wash up. And Castiel dear, please join us! My husband and the twins won' be back for a while, so we have extra settings." SHe glanced at Castiels wings, which reached six feet on either side. He involuntarily flapped them- it was sort of a habit now- feathers wafting to the floor. As everyone sat themselves down, Molly said, "Your wings are beautiful, but you'll have to put them away, okay?" Cas nodded, folding his wings, "Yes, Mrs, Weasly. Sure thing," and took a seat next to Harry. He chuckled, then asked jokingly, "How many frying pans do you own?"


	13. Chapter 13

Crowley roughly petted the blood hounds muzzle as they approached the castle. Yanking on a leash, he pulled the soul forward, the momentum making it slip to its knees. He had a hand clamped onto his side to keep blood from flowing, leaving him lifeless.

"Get up," he growled. Sam's ghost looked up at him silently, eyes wide and puppy-like. In Crowley's other hand was a scroll, the paper frayed and yellowed with age. Sam stared at it with disgust. Dean had gone to heaven- Sam knew Cas would make sure of that. But when he tried sending Sam's soul to Heaven, Crowley had interfered, strapping him down like a buck tied to the roof of a truck during hunting season. The collar of the leash raked his neck, drawing blood if he moved the slightest bit. The blood hound growled at him, it lower lip curling over a set of fangs.

"What are you gonna do?" Sam asked warily. His name was on the list. Being on Crowley's list meant that you never got to heaven unless you were rescued by a hunter- and he and Dean had been the best ones around, feared by both demons and angels.

"I'll find your angel," Crowley said, "hen rip him to shreds. Been what i wanted to do all along."

"You bastard," Sam muttered as Crowley dragged him towards the double doors. His chin scaled a trail in the dirt as he was pulled, small rocks scratching his skin. Raising a fist, Crowley knocked, waiting patiently for someone to answer- well, he tried to wait patiently. Patience was not one of Crowley's virtues, after all. After a few minutes, there was a loud creak and the door opened just a crack, a head peeping out. Her brown hair was tied in a tight bun on top of her head, her green-black robes sweeping the floor as she put out a foot to stop the door from closing on her.

"May I help you?" she asked with an air, pushing a pair of thin-rimmed glasses up her nose. She ted the man in front of her. He was short and had wiry black hair, wearing matching black clothes. At his side was some sort of dog- _what kind of creature is that? _she asked herself as she examined it. It had wisps of black floating around it, trailing behind fit like satin. Its fur was smooth, its eyes glowing red. It seemed to be a dog, but ti had a sort of demonic aura she couldn't quite place. She noticed he clutched a leash in his fist, the top eliding to…..

"Merlin's beard!" she exclaimed, "what have you done to the man?!" She closed the door a bit, leaving it open just a crack. The man looked to be out of breath- the collar of the leash was up so high on his neck it was cutting off his air supply His brown hair was matted with mud, blood dotting his hairline. He had a hand to his side, trying to keep blood from flowing out of some sort of wound.

"Please…." he panted, "…..you remember me, don't you?" Sam asked s he searched her face-she was one of the people who helped him when Dean died. He remembered how she was quick to bring them in. Se blinked, her face going rom terrified to somewhat soft as she looked at him.

"Aren't you…..?" she asked in an astounded whisper. He nodded, licking his lips. Crowley yanked the leash, making Sam gasp like a fish out of water as he collapsed onto the stone steps. Professor McGonagall gasped and tried slamming the door, but Crowley blocked it with his fist, making her jump.

"Minerva, I don't think that's a good idea," he warned, cocking an eyebrow at her. She gasped, clapping a hand to her mouth.

"How do you know my name?" she asked, horrified.

"I have records," Crowley explained, "just like the angel. Everything from your date of birth, social life, occupation, hobbies, friends, associations…." He trailed off, giving her a smug smile.

"That isn't possible!" she blurted, trying to shut the door, but Crowley prevented her from doing so. With a tug, he slammed the door against the wall and pushed past her ingot eh castle, dragging sam along. He cried out with pain as his skin connected with stone and linoleum, a ripping noise in the air. Minerva held her hands over her ears, trying to block out his gasps of pain.

"It is, Minerva," Crowley said, "we even have your date of death. She shook her head, reaching into her robes and withdrawing her wand. Shaking she held it in front of her. Crowley laughed, sending a trail of spit to the floor.

"Those petty things won't work on me," Crowley said smiling brightly, "you should know that by now." With a flick of his wrist, he disarmed her. Her wand flew from her hands and clattered to the floor, rolling a few feet away and stopping at the foot of the stairs. She backed away, shaking her head.

"Intruder!" she cried with realization, then louder ash she turned and began to jog, "INTRUDER! INTRUDER!" She broke into a run, hitching up her robes so she wouldn't trip. Her bun came loose, hairs flying in her face, around her head like a halo. She looked over her shoulder one last time before se turned the corner and reeled backwards suddenly.

"What's happening?" Albus asked, reaching out and taking her arm, helping her balance. Flustered, she tucked strands of hair behind her ears, fixing her glasses.

"There's an intruder! Intruder in the castle!" she cried fervently, pointing behind her to the entryway. Albus blinked. He was personally not surprised- once the Winchesters showed up, Heaven and Hell were likely to boil over and follow them there as Castiel had explained to him when he and Sam first went to his office, no doubt about it. _I just didn't expect it to be so soon_, he thought as Minerva ran off, alerting the rest of the castle. Cautiously, he rested by the wall, watching as the man tugged on the leash that contained another. The one at the worse end let out a blood curdling cry that made him shiver. Blood was on his face, staining his clothes, matted in his shaggy brown hair.

"Shut up!" Crowley shouted, pulling the collar up against Sam's chin. He tightened it, mumbling that it was a piece of crap. That reaper he bought it from said it would contain anyone against their will, to allow them to do your bidding, but so far Sam was trying to disobey everything he said, trying to escape and get that Crowley felt Sam didn't deserve and never would. Dumbledore stared at Sam, trying to remember where he had seen him. The brown hair was definitely familiar, framing his face and making him look somewhat like a moose….

"…Samuel Winchester," he said to himself with shocking realization. _But why is he back from the dead?!_ he thought frantically,_ no on head the power to bring one back- unless it was that other man who did so…. _He jumped as Sam let out another cry of anguish.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Crowley shouted, "Well, Dean won't be here to help you! And neither will your Angel of the Lord!" He laughed, spitting in Sam's face.

"He may not have them here, but we're here," Dumbledore piped up, gathering his courage to join them in the entryway. Sam looked up suddenly, his brown eyes filled with gratefulness, hope and fear all at the same time. He shook his head.

"Sir….." he gasped, "…..don't even try against this man….. he may as well be the Devil himself…." Crowley yanked the leash, stopping him abruptly, wheezing for air.

"Unfortunately that position has been taken by my dear brother Lucifer," Crowley hissed, "but he's right- you don't have a chance against me, old man. So I suggest you leave now while you still can. And that won't be very long, I assure you." Dumbledore slipped a hand into his long purple sleeve, holding the shaft of his wand, concealing it from Crowley's view.

"We'll see about that," Albus warned, giving Sam a quick wink. Sam grinned, blood staining his pearly whites. The old man was willing to help him. _He's willing to save me_, he thought as he watched Dumbledore extract a wand from his sleeve, _he's willing to protect a perfect stranger while protecting thousands of lives as well. He's going to save me, and I'm going to owe him a huge debt…_

Crowley sneered at him, the blood hound grabbing the leash from his hand. Sam yanked it from the dogs muzzle and in a flash the dog disappeared, leaving wisps of black in the air.

"Damn dog," Crowley muttered and suddenly flew back. There was a loud crack, then a boom as a shaft of green light flew from Dumbledore's wand- the Elder Wand, to be exact. In order to obtain it, the opponent must disarm the owner of the Elder Wand, or kill them. Sam tugged at the collar, fumbling for the clasps. The metal links were slick with his sweat and blood, his fingers equally as dirty. If Castiel was there, he would have been able to break the chain with a single touch. If Dean were there, he would have been able to console him in his time of need. _If only they were here…. _Sam thought as he grunted, pulling at the chain further, furiously gritting his teeth. He heard a crackle from Dumbledore's wand as it released more magic, subsequently pinning Crowley to the wall, followed by a loud crack and a bang. The chandelier rattled on the ceiling, the candles flickering as they swayed side to side.

"Damn it!" Sam muttered as he fiddled with the metal links. They looked as if they were connected for good, never coming undone.

"Need some help with those?' asked a gruff, raspy voice. Sam froze, watching a pair of hands take hold of the chain. There was a soft flash of light and the links fell apart, clanking as they fell to the ground. Gently, the fingers grazed his neck, light flowing from his nails. They traveled to his face, wiping away tears, skimming his sides, closing the gashes.

"Cas…." Sam said, his voice trembling.

"Yes, it's me," Cas said with a confused grin.

"Cas, where's Dean?' Sam asked. He glanced at Dumbledore and Crowley. Crowley was beginning to look weak, his skin a pallid gray. Albus had him down, been light boasting from the tip of his wand, looking powerful and mighty as he stood over the demon menacingly.

"Please….." Crowley was practically begging, "you don't want to kill me! It was all a joke!"

"So it was a joke when you killed Meg? Kevin and his mother?" There was a chill in the air as clouds of mist floated from behind the headmaster, stretching a pulsing until they took forms. A girl with long hair stood next to a teenage boy and his mother, their bodies flickering, transparent yet opaque in some areas.

"Honest!" Crowley smiled nervously, sweat beading on his forehead. Cas and Sam looked on as he continued to question him, "So it was all a joke, when you killed Samandriel?" A man wearing a striped working shirt appeared next to Meg's ghost.

"They all knew!" Crowley said desperately, getting more nervous by the second.

"Then what about when you killed Bobby?" Dumbledore asked, cocking his head, "Hmmm?" A short man with a stuffy beard and a pot belly appeared on his other side, a truck driver's hat on his head.

"What's happening?' Cas asked as he watched the spirits.

"First you answer my question," Sam demanded, "Where's Dean?"

"In Heaven, Sam," Cas answered, "he told me to tell you he sends his love, and that he's watching over you right now." Sam felt tears brimming, flowing down his dirty face. _So Dean is an angel now…._ he thought as they turned back to Crowley and Dumbledore and he said, "those figures? Those are ghosts. They're seen often around the castle, although I haven't seen one myself until now." Dumbledore glared at Crowley as he bent over, the bells on his beard jingling. The ghosts looked on silently, monotonous expressions decorating their faces.

"Was it a joke," Dumbledore said through clenched teeth, "when you caused Samuel and Dean so much pain? And suffering?" Crowley squeaked as a glint passed through the old man's gaze, quick s lightening. Dumbledore poked the tip of his wand under Crowley's chin, pressing into his throat, green light spilling from it, encasing Crowley like wildfire until he was completely covered with his magic. Sam and Cas watched, somewhat horrified as they smelled the sizzling of burning flesh, smoke rising from the spot Crowley sat. Flames licked the floor, scorching the end of Albus' purple robes as he watched Crowley's body burn.

"He's not going to die," Cas mumbled. Sam looked at the angel, who watched tentatively, "What did you say?" Cas shook his head, licking his lips.

"He's not going to die that way," Cas said louder, reaching into his trench coat and brandishing his Angel Blade. The long blade glinted in the light as he swiftly teleported in a flash to Dumbledore's side, surprising the old man in the process. Sam stayed where he was, sitting hunched over on the floor. Holding an arm out, Dumbledore tried to push Cas back, but Castiel showed him the angel blade, saying, "Crowley is not an ordinary human, nor is he a wizard. He is a demon." Albus glanced at Crowley, who was burning in front of him, barely hanging on to his life, it seemed.

"What do you mean?" Dumbledore's white rows furrowed, creating worry lines.

"Did he mention that wands won't work on him?"

"Yes….." Albus nodded, his worry increasing.

"He's a demon. Being a demon, he doesn't die like normal humans," Cas explained, taking hold of Albus' hand and lowering his wand, pointing his Angel Blade in its place. Dumbledore looked at the blade, the metal shiny and new looking.

"What is this?" he asked. Crowley whimpered as the tip of the blade poked his neck, drawing a thin line of blood.

"Shut up, Crowley," Cas growled, then said to Dumbledore, "this here is an Angel Blade. It is used to kill demons, and if need be, angels. It also has the power to kill humans, but we haven't needed to do so yet."

"Cas! Just kill him already!" Sam shouted from his spot by the door. Minerva was back, students beginning to follow her. Soon they were surrounded by a sea of black robes with striped ties, wands clutched in each hand. Sam gasped as he felt a stinging pain in his side, the spot where Cas had healed his wound, Looking down, he noticed his hand was running with red, his blood warm against his skin. It pooled on the floor, staining his clothes.

"Okay, Sam," Cas said, and nonchalantly slipped the blade sideways. Blood splurged on the walls, spraying the angel's clothes as he pushed Dumbledore back behind him, towards the crowd of students. Light flashed from Crowley's eyes and mouth as he felt the blade slide into him, eating his flesh. Bouncing along the floor like a rubber bony ball was Crowley's head, blood as black as obsidian dotting the floor and leaving trails that lead to nowhere. It rolled to a stop at Professor McGonagall's feet and the students nearby shrieks with terror, scuttling backwards, pushing others in an attempt to get away from it. Her black robes sweeping the floor, Minerva knelt down and grabbed Sam's arm, pulling him to his feet- or at least trying to, He collapsed as she tried lifting him, a grunt alerting Castiel's attention. Briskly walking over, he looped Sam's arm over his shoulder. Sam smiled at him, grateful that he was there. That he knew he wasn't alone anymore. _Of course, these people, they helped me as well_, he thought as a soft glow surrounded them. He sighed as he and Cas began to disappear in front of the crowd, the light enveloping them until it was all he could see.


	14. Chapter 14

Dumbledore paced in his office, light pouring in from the stained glass windows on the walls behind his oaken desk. The Pensive sat, shielded in a glass case on the opposite side of the room, the blue colored glass opaque and tinted slightly black, obscuring the Pensive itself from view. A purple throw rug lay wrinkled on the floor, faded from years of being trodden on, dirt scrubbed into the fabric. There was a creak as the door opened, and Dumbledore cleared his throat, waving the person inside.

"Welcome, welcome!" Dumbledore said as the young man strolled casually into the office, looking around and taking everything in. To the man, it looked a little intimidating, even if everything was decorated with varying hues of purple and blue. The fact that Dumbledore was the Headmaster of the school was intimidating itself. He smiled.

"Thanks," he said, his voice gruff. He flapped his wings, the white feathers catching the sunlight as they moved. Albus nodded, the bells on his beard jingling.

"Yes, yes," he said, "I would advise you put away your, uh….." He waved his hands in strange gestures, trying his best to avoid the word altogether. It was still awkward for him to say the word wings- and to know that people were able o obtain them themselves. The man cocked his head, then node din realization, pointing to his back.

"Oh, you mean these?" he asked, and Albus nodded.

"Yes," he said, "I usually don't see them on a person, and I'm afraid they'll cause damage to the precious items I have in this room, so it would be much appreciated."

"Sure, sorry," the man obliged, tucking his wings behind him, pressing them against his back as best he could to conceal them. Dumbledore pulled out a chair, gesturing for him to sit. He nodded, taking it, The plush purple cushion seemed to mold to his butt perfectly, as if he had sat in it all the time. He laughed, slightly jumping in his chair.

"The only other time I sat in a chair that remembered me was when Sammy and I had our own home," he said nostalgically. Dumbledore smiled- it was good that he was talking about his brother again. Unfortunately though, Sam had suffered from trauma, and needed to stay in Heaven a little whole longer before being able to visit Earth again.

"As in your motel rooms?" Dumbledore asked, "Did you ever consider those home?" The man shook his head.

"Nah, that house, that was our first true home, our first permanent home in a while," he said with a smile._ Of course_, he thought, _that house was probably sold already, since Sammy and I don't live in it anymore…. _

"Well, I called you down here to talk about something," Albus said, folding his hands in front of him, His skin was leathery, veins popping out in certain areas, tracing patterns on his fingers which were covered in rings.

"Yeah? What about?" he asked.

"It's about what happened for the past few months," Dumbledore said. The man nodded, pursing his lips.

"Okay, shoot," he said, "whatever you need to know. I'm an open book." Albus nodded.

"Good, because I've been getting questions about you and Samuel," Albus explained, "especially questions about Samuel from one of our students. I don't know if you've heard of her- Luna Lovegood?"

"I have heard of her," the man said, "seen her as well- sweet girl. i noticed she kind of befriended Sam when I first died, so….." He trailed off, tears brimming in his eyes, remembering how kind the girl had been to his brother, even if it was the smallest thing as saying hello to him in the morning, always waving and smiling.

"Dean, I don't mean to trouble you," Albus said, noticing his tears.

"It's okay, Mr. Dumbledore, sir," Dean said, "now what do you need to know?" Their shadows were cast across the floor as light came in from the window behind them. Dean sighed, rubbing his hands against his thighs.

"It's about how you came, how it is you were able to get through the magical barrier-"

"Port Key," Dean interrupted, "great thing you guys have, really."

"- and how that man came about, that Crowley," Dumbledore ignored his comment, "Do you think you can tell me?" Dean bit his lip, unsure of where to start. _Should I start with our backstory?_ he thought, _then shook his head, no- that would take too long- you know what? may as well_.

"Well, Sam and I have been hunters ever since we were young- I don't exactly remember though. I remember our parents died when we were around the same age when we became hunters. Sam was beginning to get…influenced as we got older, so we had to destroy the Demon Tablet." Dumbledore cocked his head.

"That does not make sense to me," Dumbledore said, "could you clarify for me?"

"The Demon Tablet is a tablet that has rules for demons to follow in hell," Dean began, "angels have one too, called the Angel Tablet. Death tried to open the gates of Hell, to try and take over Heaven and earth. It was Sam and my job to destroy the Demon Tablet to close the gates. As you can see, were successful- Death didn't want to try again, and Lucifer himself wet his pants!" Dean slapped his knee as he chuckled, remembering what he had watched from Heaven while Sam was below, battling for his life almost everyday. Dumbledore nodded understandingly.

"And what about Crowley?" he asked.

"Well, people say Death is the ruler of Hell, but we all know it's Crowley," Dean said, " Crowley runs the place anyway. I remember we had to get through Purgatory in order to get to a portal that would take us to Hell because it is extremely difficult to get in without going unnoticed."

"What was it that Crowley wanted?" Dumbledore asked.

"He wanted to destroy the Angel Tablet, to keep the Angels in heaven, and to prevent them from interrupting his plans of turning the Earth and Purgatory into his own personal playground," Dean explained.

"And how did you three play into the mix?"

"Sam and I have been- well, were- hunters our entire lives, protecting the human race from the demons. Castiel is an Angel of the Lord, and we wanted the same thing- keep the demons at bay," Dean said, "And Crowley wanted to stop that." He rubbed his back against the chair- keeping his wings folded was starting to annoy him, making his skin itch from the feel of his feathers.

"I'll tell you this now," Dumbledore sighed, "we never thought you would take your battle into the wizarding world." Dean laughed.

"Neither did we, old man, neither did we," Dean agreed, "you know, my brother and I met some of the students here, and Sam said he would like to thank them personally for helping us- mainly him, seeing as I was, you know….."

"Deceased? Six feet under? Having your mail delivered by moles?" Dumbledore joked, cracking a smile for the first time during the conversation. His teeth were yellowed, some slightly rotten with cavities- probably from all the lemon drops he ate so much.

"Yeah, that," Dean said. It still made him nervous to say it, as if he would insult someone. He felt as if saying he was dead was some sort of taboo that would probably get him shunned for eternity. Dumbledore reached over and patted his hand.

"You know, being dead is no sin," he said, "you don't have to act as if it's the worst thing in the world. Because it's not."

"I know, but…." Dean trailed off, sighing, "I feel like I'm insulting those who died for a good cause. Who died to help others. Sam and I didn't die for anything. In a way, it makes me feel like a waste os space, up there in Heaven." Dumbledore shook his head.

"You did not die in vain, dean, and neither did Sam," Dumbledore said through clenched teeth, "you died for a great cause." Dean suddenly pounded a fist on the desk, startling the old man.

"And for what? So people could die?" Dean was shouting now, his voice shouting. Tears began to stream down his face. Dumbledore stood up suddenly, slamming his hands on the desk.

"Yes, people died in the past!" Dumbledore cried, not noticing the door to his office creak open, "but what is in the past stays there! Your friends died trying to help you protect the ones you loved!"

"But that's the thing!" Dean yelled back, "I can't protect everyone even if I wanted to! I couldn't even protect my own brother!" His wings had unfolded and now were spread out, the white feathers flapping involuntarily, making gusts of wind fly through the air.

"Am I interrupting something?" Snape asked, knocking lightly on the door. Dumbledore looked past Dean's shoulder to see Snape in his black robes waiting patiently, one foot in the door to keep it from closing on him.

"No, Severus," Albus said, "Do come in." He waved Severus into the office and he stood next to the desk, his hands folded in front of him, his skin looking stark white against the deep black of the fabric.

"Who are you?' Dean asked.

"…..Likewise," Snape said after a pause, eyeing Dean's wings cautiously- they reminded him of Cas' wings, large and powerful. White feathers littered the floor around Dean's feet.

"Dean, this is Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts," Dumbledore introduced, "Severus, this is Dean Winchester." Dean noticed a flickering glint in Snape's eyes, his pupils dilating a tiny bit, then it disappeared as soon as it had come.

"Aren't you that friend of Castiel?" Snape asked. Dean nodded.

"How do you know him?" Dean asked, "Cas doesn't usually associate with humans."

"He came into my office with Hagrid and those three kids, saying he was attacked by a dementor-"

"What the fuck is a dementor?' Dean asked, confused.

"Excuse me?" Snape asked, "how do you not know what a dementor is? Everyone whose heard of Azkaban has heard of a dementor!" His eyes were wide with surprise.

"That's probably the most expression you've ever shown in front of me, Severus," Dumbledore chuckled. Snap blushed- although there was no color, his face just seemed to pale. With a flourish, he swept his robes up and stormed out of the office, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Excuse my colleague," Dumbledore apologized, "he still gets upset over Lily's death now and again. Of course, because her son attends, he is reminded of his hatred for James Potter almost every day. It will be the death of him, i am sure…." He sighed heavily, sitting back down.

"Lily?" Dean asked, "whose she? And James?"

"James Potter was a student here at Hogwarts along with Severus. They both had affection for a girl named Lily Evans, who was Severus' only friend while he was here. Lily and James got married when they were older, and had a son, Harry Potter." Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the door creak open and a head of messy black hair pop in, "And that's him now. Harry, my boy! Come in! Come in!" Hrry slid through the door, shutting it carefully begin shim. He jerked his thumb behind him saying, "I just saw Snape- is everything okay?"

"Harry, please remember he is your elder, so you must respect him," Dumbledore reminded him. He blushed, embarrassed.

"Sorry, Professor Dumbledore, sir," Harry apologized, then noticed Dean's wings, how the feathers caught the light. He squinted at Dean, saying, "You look familiar…." The brown hair, the tall stature…. "Dean Winchester?"

"Ding! Ding! Ding!" Dean said sarcastically, "and we have a winner!"

"Wow….." Harry said, shocked. Last time he saw Dean, the man was bleeding all over his bed with an arrow in his back.

"And you must be Harry Potter?' Dean asked, raising an eyebrow. Harry nodded, his face turning a deeper shade of scarlet- people were always excited when they first met him since he defeat Voldemort, also known as The Dark Lord, better known to wizards and witches as He- Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. To be honest though, it got annoying pretty quickly.

"Yeah," he gulped. Dumbledore gestured to the empty chair. The purple cushion and white feathers perched on it-_ probably from Dean's wings_, Harry thought as he brushed them to the floor and sat down.

"Harry, Dean is here representing himself, Castiel and his brother, Samuel," Dumbledore said, "although I don't know everything that has gone on during their stay, he wants to thank all the students who helped them personally- especially Samuel."

"Okay," Harry gulped, "what does that Have to do with me?"

"You helped my brother, didn't you?" Dean interjected, his voice gruff and intimidating.

"Yes, but can't Sam come down from…wherever he is and thank us himself?" Dean shook his head.

"Sammy is in Heaven now," Dean explained, "along with Cas. Their injuries were too great for them to be able to visit again. So I came down for them."

"What injuries…..?" Harry began to ask, then trail doff, remembering how he was tortured int eh dungeon by Crowley, how he was led around on a leash a week before, his guts spilling all over the floor of the castle entryway. There was a knock at at the door again and Hermione and Ron entered, staring in surprise at Dean, whose wings were completely spread out.

"Bloody hell….." Ron whispered astonished. Dean towered over Harry and Dumbledore by a few feet- how tall was he exactly?

"Is that….?" Hermione trailed off, looking at Dean suspiciously. Dean nodded.

"Dean Winchester, at your service," he joked, bowing. Hermione giggled and Ron rolled his eyes- girls were so easily flattered by the littlest things apparently. It was downright annoying to him.

"Hermione, Ron," Dumbledore nodded hello, "I would like you and Harry to help Dean."

"With what?' Ron asked. Scabbers was sitting on his shoulder, twitching his small pink nose.

"I want to thank everyone who helped me and my brother while we were here," Dean explained, "as well as Cas."

"Then why didn't they come down themselves?" Ron asked.

"Castiel is repairing his vessel, and Sammy is suffering from trauma induced injuries, so he's gonna be needing help for a long time," Dean said, sighing, "I myself was not in the best condition, so I probably shouldn't be down here, but I'm doing it for Sammy." Hermione awed, putting a hand over her heart.

"That is so sweet and brave of you," she congratulated him with a sympathetic smile. Dean rolled his eyes.

"That's great and all, but let's get this show on the road!" Dean exclaimed, pushing past them and trying to get through the door, but stopping short. Hermione, Harry and Ron laughed as Dean tried squeezing through the doorframe, his wings blocking access.

"Mr. Winchester?" Dumbledore called from across the room, "your wings?" Dean looked confused, then nodded with realization- his wings were to large to fit. Folding them, he entered the hallway with the trio following in his wake. Once in the hall, Dean unfolded his wings, letting them spread to their full size again, hitting Ron in the face and making him reel backwards. He crashed to the ground as Dean turned, and said, "Sorry kid, didn't see you." Taking his hand, he pulled Ron to his feet.

"Be careful with those, will you?" Ron asked.

"Having your wings folded all day can make them sore," Dean said, "so I have to stretch them out sometime- why don't you try being an angel one day?"

"I think I'm good, thanks," Ron said, eyeing his wings for the millionth time. They walked further down the hall until they reached the entryway, which lead off into the Great Hall. A bell rang, and they could smell fresh baked goods, the scent wafting in from the Great Hall. Dean sniffed, he felt his mouth begin to water.

"Is that…..pie?" he asked, staring into the Great Hall. Hermione, Ron and Harry exchanged glances in disbelief- pie? Really?

"Dean!" Hermione snapped her fingers in his face, breaking him away from his trance like state, "focus!" Dean nodded, licking his lips. He was gonna make sure he got some of that pie later.

"So, who is it you need to talk to?" Hermione asked. Dean reached into his back pocket and pulled out a list. names were scrawled on it sloppily, as if a child had written it instead of a grown man- _well, angel in his case_, Hermione thought as he showed it to her. The first name mentioned was Luna.

"Luna Lovegood," Hermione read, squinting to see the letters, "Okay- let's go find her." Taking the list, she stalked into the Great Hall, which was already filled with students. She tried avoiding the Slytherin table altogether- they were nasty people and they were already pointing and laughing at Dean, his wings hitting people's faces as he passed them. Harry pushed past Dean's right wing to get in front of him, saying, "You should probably put those away." Dean laughed.

"Why?" he asked, eyeing the food that rested on the tables. Large turkeys surrounded by greens sat on oval platters. Pumpkin juice rippled in silver goblets, sitting next to plates filled with plump cakes covered in frosting along with candied yams and other assortments of food that were sure to satisfy him for weeks.

"We're getting stares and you're hitting them in the face," Harry said. Dean nodded, folding his wings against his back. Harry looked behind them to see a trail of white feathers following them- _do his feathers always need to fall out?_ he thought, annoyed. Not that he was the one cleaning them up- that was Filch's job. Hermione and Ron were scanning the crowds when Ron tugged on Dean's sleeve and pointed, "Look- there she is!" Dean followed Ron's finger to find himself looking at a girl who was about Hermione's age. She and hair so blond it looked almost white, her skin equally as pale. She wore a blue and gray striped silk tie around her neck, tucked into her school robes.

"Luna?' Dean asked.

"Yes, now go talk to her," Hermione said, taking his hand and dragging him over to the Ravenclaw table. She pushed Dean until he was standing next to Luna's chair. Dean rocked on his heels, looking at the surrounding students that began to give him curious looks.

"Uh, Luna Lovegood?" he asked, clearing his throat. Luna turned in her chair to look at him.

"Oh, hello," she said, her voice breathy and soft.

"Um, I'm Dean," Dean said, sticking a hand out. She took it and shook it lightly, nodding.

"Well, nice to meet you."

"I know you knew my brother-"

"Samuel Winchester, right?" a smile crept across her face as she interrupted him. Dean nodded.

"Yeah," Dean confirmed, "Sammy would have come down to thank you himself, but he's repairing his vessel right now, so I came down for him."

"Repairing his vessel?" Luna asked, "does that mean he's going through therapy or hospitalization?" Dean nodded, "Yeah, something like that. Anyway, he wanted to thank you, for helping him."

"But I didn't really do anything," Luna said, "I just talked to him a few times. And not even for that long."

"That's your opinion, maybe," Dean said, "but in his opinion, you did so much for him when he was already going through a tough time, so thank you." He smiled, nodding his head, walking away before Luna could say anything else. He held out his hand as he stopped beside Hermione.

"What?' she asked. Ron stepped forward and slapped him a high five. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Not a high five, you idiot," he growled. Ron looked defeated, casting his eyes to the floor. dean wiggled his fingers impatiently at Hermione.

"The list, kid," Dean finally said, "give me the damn thing." Hermione pressed the paper into his palm.

"And they said you were the smartest kid here," Dean muttered, shaking his head. Holding the edge of the paper between his thumb and forefinger, he grabbed it with his other hand and pulled straight down the middle.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow as he let the paper flutter to the floor.

"Going to heaven," Dean answered, "We've said our thanks." A light began to surround him, outlining his body as it to brighter and brighter, his feet beginning to disappear within it. Everyone in the Great Hall turned in their seats to watch as he was swallowed by the white light until he was gone completely. As soon as the light had gone, Dumbledore came rushing in, his purple robes sweeping the floor.

"Where is Dean Winchester?" he asked, his voice booming in the cavernous room.

"He went back," Luna piped up after there was a few minutes of silence.

"Back where?" Dumbledore asked.

"Where do you think?" she said, gesturing to the floor. Dumbledore sighed when he saw them- three feathers on the floor at Hermione's feet, all snow white in color.

"Goodbye, Dean, Samuel, Castiel," he said o himself in a whisper, "what happened this year is still unclear, but we thank you three for trying to protect us as best you could. You are always welcome back, anytime you need."


	15. Chapter 15

Sam and Castiel were smiling, their faces reflected in the glass ball before them, showing the Great Hall of Hogwarts filled with students, watching as Dean disappeared in a flash of light.

"Thanks, Albus," Sam said, mostly to himself, "we'll be sure to come back soon." Castiel nodded, tuning his gaze from the crystal ball to Sam. The man seemed to glow, he seemed to be truly happy now that he was at peace with him, with his brother, in Heaven.

"You know, we could go back next week?" Castiel suggested, reaching out and hesitantly grabbing Sam's hand. Sam nodded, still grinning.

"During our vacation?" he asked, laughing, "you know, I'm surprised you guys get vacation days, like being an Angel is some sort of job." Cas nodded.

"It is a job, Samuel Winchester," Castiel said in that raspy tone he had when he first met him, "we do all sorts of things. It may not be like being a demon, but it's still a job," he reference when Sam had allowed the demon blood to take over, consume him.

"I'm surprised they even let you in," Dean said, appearing behind them. Sam jumped, then turned, throwing his arms around his brother's neck.

"Okay, okay!" Dean laughed, pulling his brother off him, "I spoke to Luna for you, Sam."

"Thanks, dude," Sam said. Luna was probably the person he was going to miss the most, she had been so nice to him during his stay.

"You know, she looks somewhat like an angel herself," Dean commented.

"Hey, remember when she was helping you with that book?" Cas asked. Sam nodded, licking his lips. The glass of the ball had become white and cloudy, obscuring any images they might have missed.

"Yeah, what about it?" he asked, "didn't we give it to Naomi to research?"

"Yes," Castiel said, "I'm just curious as to what it was doing there in the first place, because that book was a book that was created specifically for Angels, since I was the only one who could read it at the time."

"Okay….?" Dean was confused- what book were they talking about?

"In case you don't know, Dean, the book Samuel found was created by Angels, for Angels," Castiel said as he probed his thoughts, "we don't know how it got there, so we gave it to Naomi to study. Was anyone with you when you were reading it?" Sam nodded.

"There was Luna," Sam said as he began counting off his fingers, "but she assumed it was someone who just shoved a journal in the bookshelf. She couldn't read it herself."

"Okay, but was there anyone else, besides me and Luna?" Casiel asked.

"There was this weird kid," Sam said, "I think he was in the Slytherin House, since he was wearing a green tie. He came up to me and said that we should have been friends since he found out I was special, and he said he was special."

"Special as in how?" Dean asked.

"I don't know," Sam shrugged, "I just assumed he meant he had a very high social status. He was giving off the stereotypical snotty rich kid vibe when we spoke."

"Was he able to read the book?" Castiel asked. Sam shook his head.

"He didn't give the thing a second glance, so he never got a look at it," Sam explained. Castiel rubbed his temples. _What did the kid look like?_ he thought as he began pacing in front of the brothers.

"He had deathly pale skin," Sam began describing the boy to Cas, reading Cas's mind, "thin looking face, and his eyes were this bright blue, almost pale blue, actually. His hair was so blond it looked white. Is that enough for you?"

"Yes, but what was his name?" Cas asked as he stopped pacing, "it sounded as if it had something to do with a snake, the meaning of it. Draco….. Draco…"

"Malfoy?" Dean suggested. Cas snapped his fingers.

"That's it!" he exclaimed, "Draco Malfoy! Do you think he's some sort of celestial being?" The brothers shrugged simultaneously, acting almost like the Weasly twins they had met.

"Dunno," Dean said, "maybe, i guess. But he seems too snobby to be an Angel." Sam nodded in agreement.

"Yeah- what of he's a Demon?" There was a sudden slam of doors as Naomi entered, waving the book in the air.

"This book was made for Angels, specifically for Angels," she stated.

"Yeah, we know that," Dean scoffed, a smug smile on his face. Sam elbowed him and the smile disappeared, replaced by seriousness, "Sorry. Go on."

"Like Cas said, only Angels can read it," Naomi continued, "but the writing does not belong to any Angel who resides here in Heaven currently."

"Well who's is it?" Castiel asked. Naomi flipped through the pages until she found one she found suitable, her finger tracing the words as she read from it, "Today I spoke with that strange looking man- Moose, i like to nickname him, although the twits at this school do so to. I told him we should be friends when i saw him with that girl, Looney Lovegood- what a loser- but he said no. My father is sure to hear about this sooner or later." There was a collective gasp from the there angels as Naomi finished reading, closing the book, "What?" she asked, looking at their shocked faces.

"That's what he asked me," Sam said, "he told me we should be friends because we were both special…" Naomi took hold Sam's shoulders, her nails digging into his skin, she was holding so tight.

"Who?" she asked sternly, "I must know, this is extremely important." Sam gulped, his adams apple bobbing slightly.

"A student at the school," Sam said.

"What student?" Naomi pressed.

"Draco Malfoy."


End file.
